For Want of a Nail
by LSR-7
Summary: Continuation fic. Please read and REVIEW! Folken has lost his memory and learns to live in a farming community and perhaps to learn to love a doctor's daughter.
1. Prologue

**For Want of a Nail**

****

By LSR_7 (aka LSR-7 since ff.net doesn't like underscores!)

Disclaimer: I do not own The Vision of Escaflowne/Tenkuu no Escaflowne

**Prologue **

_A pillar of white light flashed onto a circular platform and disintegrated to reveal Folken and Hitomi on its center._

_                "Where are we?" a startled Hitomi asked her tall companion. _

_                "Everything is now in place," a gravelly voice said behind her.  She turned away from Folken and looked up to locate the voice.  Dornkirk continued, "All of the pieces have come to me.  The time has come to use the full power of the Fate Alteration Engine.  All is proceeding according to my will."_

_                "Your will?" questioned Folken._

_                "Yes," Dornkirk answered, "I guided fate so you would bring the girl from the Mystic Moon to me."_

_                Folken's shocked face quickly turned to anger.  "Just how far do you plan to toy with fate?!"_

_                "A foolish question.  You should know my true intentions," the emperor answered calmly._

_                Folken's eyes narrowed as he said resolutely, "Then you should know what I'm determined to do."_

_                "You've come to kill me, correct?"  No fear was evident in the old man's voice._

_                Hitomi was shocked and quickly turned to face Folken to see if what Dornkirk had said was true._

_                "Come, kill me.  I am the only one here."_

_                Folken pulled out his sword that had been resting on his left hip with his true hand and flapped his powerful black wings._

_                "Folken-san!" shouted Hitomi anxiously._

_                The metal plates around Emperor Dornkirk lifted and separated in a cloud of steam.  His cold laugh could be heard echoing in the immense chamber.  In the veil of the steam he could be seen standing with his withered arms raised._

_                "Come, Folken!" he laughed mockingly, raising his arms past his shoulders._

_A mask of rage slipped onto Folken's face.  His eyebrows bunched, eyes narrowing into slits and screamed, "Monster!"_

_He flew up, black feathers littered the air in his wake, and landed before Dornkirk who was mocking him, challenging him to kill him with his arms open.  _

_"Folken-san!" Hitomi desperately pleaded._

_                Folken raised his broadsword above his head._

_                "Dame!" Hitomi screams._

_                The sword started its descent.  Dornkirk's eyes widened in surprise, as he had not expected Folken to actually kill him.  The sword finally slashed down on the emperor and green fluid spurted out at Folken.  It reminded him of the blood he had drawn from the dragon he had failed to slay over a decade ago.  The sword had cut Dornkirk down, but went even further until the tip hit the plating of the massive machine that had formerly been connected to Dornkirk.  It broke off and spun back up to hit the black winged avenging angel in the chest.  Folken grunted and his eyes grew round in shock.  The green liquid finally slowed then stopped leaving three empty bell jars that had held the fluid.  Folken remained hunched over from when he went on his downward arc to kill the emperor and discovered the probable reasoning to this happening, "I see.  This is the heart of the fate alteration, where action and reaction are at their most powerful."  He looked up and continued, "But the war will end now."  At this point his face was calm as he accepted his fate and he straightened up as he said, "May Gaea find true peace…"_

_                He fell back and bounced off Dornkirk's machine and came to rest on the cold metal deck.  Blood pooled around him from his chest, mouth and eyes.  His final thought voiced was, "Van."_

_                As his eyesight dimmed into blackness a distant sounding yell from Hitomi was heard.  "Folken-san!"_

**Author's Notes ****May 25, 2003****:**

I went back and changed this chapter so that all of the sentences stay in the same tense.  Or at least I hope I got all of them.

**Author's Notes:** The dialogue is directly from the subtitles from my Escaflowne tapes. They are exactly the same except that I left it so that Hitomi still says, "Folken-san" rather than the plain "Folken" since she _is_ speaking Japanese. That goes for her saying "Dame!" (pronounced "da" like the "du" in "duck" and "me" is like the "me" in "met") which means "No!" I left everything else as is. Since this is a prologue I just used it as a recap. It will take a while to get the whole story out since I intend to finish the whole story before I post many more chapters out. 

This fanfiction is going to be focused on Folken after his "supposed" demise. I guess it's almost an AU. I'm playing off of that Van never said directly that Folken's body was found and buried, although I know he probably meant that when he and Hitomi were in front of the monument looking place when he said "You can watch us from here" or something to that effect. I just want to make it clear that I've seen the whole series multiple times and I pretty much know what I'm talking about.

I will be introducing many of my own characters, the first few you'll meet will have "normal" names, meaning ones we've heard before, Earth names. My defense is that they already have Earth names on Gaea/Gaia like Allen, Merle, Van, Eries, Astoria/Asturia, etc. Are you surprised about Astoria? I was surfing the net and found a place called Astoria in New York, I think. I believe it was the name of a hotel. From my own experience of reading fanfics I find that having an onslaught of new characters can be frustrating, so I hope I have written this well enough that you, the readers, don't find it annoying.

I'm having my story edited so that also adds onto the time thingy, but I'm having everyone take their time. I hope you will enjoy.

-LSR_7 


	2. Chapter 1

For want of a nail, the shoe was lost;

For want of the shoe, the horse was lost;

For want of the horse, the rider was lost;

For want of the rider, the battle was lost;

For want of the battle, the kingdom was lost,

And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.

"For Want of a Nail," Checkerboard Press, Copyright 1916, Pg. 101

**Chapter 1**

Darkness. It was always dark. He didn't know when it started, just that it was all he knew. Nothing but black darkness surrounded him. But it was now coming to an end.

                A vague feeling of light hit his face and eyelids and warmed him all around. The light going through his eyelids made him see a dark red.

                His eyes fluttered open to see a wooden ceiling.

                "Hi there. I was afraid you'd never wake up," came a soft feminine voice from his left. He turned his head left, trying to locate the soft, warm, friendly voice. He squinted from the light that was probably coming from a window, somewhere past the foot of the bed he lay on.

                The woman walked from the doorway to beside the bed and sat in a chair that was conveniently placed at the bedside.

                "Hello. I'm Sarah. I've been taking care of you for the past month," said the young woman. "Can you please tell me your name?"

                A puzzled look came over the young man's features as he looked at Sarah. She had black, wavy hair that went down her back, with a dark blue headband that kept her thick hair from going into her face. And she had such startling ice blue eyes that seemed to pierce into the young man.

                He attempted to speak, but found that his mouth was sticky and throat dry and he started to cough.

                "Water," he croaked.

                Sarah reached over to the nightstand where a pitcher of water and a glass were placed. She poured the water into it. She then held it towards him. He pulled his right hand from beneath the bed covers for the glass and gasped.

                "What is it?" Sarah asked with concern as she put the glass back on the table and came a step closer.

                "My arm. What happened? What is this?" he asked in a raspy whisper, his voice trembled while he looked at his metallic and right-handed claw.

                "I thought you would know. The men brought you in like that," Sarah replied quietly. "Do you remember anything?"

                "No," he murmured. He put his hand beneath the covers again, as if to hide it from view. His pale eyebrows were knitted together in painful concentration as he tried to remember something of his life, a name, a face, anything.

                He found that he couldn't and a tear escaped his eye. He felt his muscles start constricting as his body began to shudder and started sobbing quietly.

                Sarah gently leaned over him and slowly wrapped her arms around him, whispering into his right ear, "Shh. Don't worry, we'll find out who you are. It'll just take some time…" She continued murmuring encouraging and soothing words to him. His left arm came out from under the covers and hugged her back as he quieted down and his tears subsided.

                His head was still buried into her shoulder and black hair, which smelled faintly of roses. He relaxed a bit. Sarah pulled away to look into his dark, red eyes with her sympathetic blue ones. Warm water soothing red flames.

                "Do you think you can sit up?" she asked quietly.

                He gave a nod and attempted to push himself up. Sarah reached out her right arm behind him to support his back, while her other hand clutched his bandaged left shoulder and pulled him upright. She then put a few more pillows behind him, so that he could lean back.

               "You're definitely well muscled and all, but I think it would be wise to let me help you for now. You have been comatose for a month, so don't be offended," Sarah explained as she lifted the glass of water from the table. He brought his left hand up and placed it around her hand and the glass to help guide it to his lips.

                Sarah felt her face grow warm and tried to fight it and reclaim her professional attitude. His hand was large and warm. He was her patient for God's sake! But he was handsome with his aqua-silver hair, dark-red eyes, well-toned body…

                Sarah sighed to herself as she tried to divert her train of thoughts.

The young man finished the glass of water and said, "Thank you."

                Sarah snapped out of her thoughts and quickly replied, "You're welcome." Blushing under his intense gaze.

                "Well, we need to come up with a name for you until we find your real name, because I'd rather not just say 'Hey you' all the time," Sarah said with a smile as she placed the empty glass back down on the table. The young man gave a wan smile at her attempt at humor.

                "You might as well name me since you have been taking care of me," he replied in his pleasant deep voice.

                "Ummm… This is hard! It's not like naming a puppy and I have an awful hard time even with that!" Sarah was already exasperated. The young man gave a smile that reached his eyes as he chuckled softly. Sarah noted how handsome he looked when he smiled.

                "How about John?"

                "Sounds good with me," replied the young man, now named John, with a faint smile.

                "Good. Now, I came here to check on how you were healing when you woke up on me. I'm glad that you did. I'll be unwrapping your bandages to check on your stitches which should come out today," Sarah said in a professional tone.

                John looked down at himself and discovered that he was bare-chested where he wasn't wrapped in bandages, which went over his left shoulder, and under his arms down to the middle of his toned abdomen. He also noticed his metallic right arm and how it was strapped and bolted to his right shoulder and chest.

                Sarah noticed his quickly faded humor.

                "John? What are you thinking?"

                "Are you not afraid of my arm, or me?"

                Sarah paused from tugging at a knot in the bandages, which she was trying to loosen. She looked at John with a thoughtful expression on her face, then replied, "Not really, I mean, I was startled at first, but I've had a whole month to get used to seeing it and all…"

                "What about me? You don't know me…"

                She gave him a gentle warm smile and said, "You don't look like someone I should be afraid of. I think you look rather like a… lost angel…" she blushed and looked away.

                John also blushed, but said nothing.

                Sarah cleared her throat a little and went back to trying to undo the bandages.

                "Here, let me."

                John looked at his right arm with disdain, but brought it up anyway and hooked a claw under a couple bandages and ripped them off. He continued to cut all of them off until he was left looking at his bare skin.

                He saw the stitches Sarah spoke of. There was a scar about two inches long on his chest; it was so close to his heart that he wondered why he wasn't dead.

                "We did some quick surgery. You had lost a lot of blood, so much in fact, that you were thought to be a lost cause, but we tried anyway, because there is always hope. And here you are, alive and all," she told him upon seeing his contemplative look. "Well, this might sting a little since your skin healed around the thread."

                "I'll live through it. Considering…" at this he gave a glance at his robotic arm.

                "Um, well, yes. Anyways, here I go."

                She brought out tweezers and a pair of surgical scissors from her apron pockets, then scooted the chair right up against the bed so she was facing him. She placed a cool hand right beside the scar, and with the other hand, brought up the scissors and proceeded cutting the stitches carefully and efficiently. With that part finished, she replaced the scissors with the tweezers, looking at John in the face as if in warning, and went to pull the stitches out.

                John clutched the bedspread a little as each piece of string was pulled out. Each felt like a pinch and had a strange sensation when pulled out from under his skin. Muscles rippled under smooth skin as he tensed with each piece of stitching.

                Eighteen pieces of string later the two-inch-long mottled scar had pinprick sized red dots lining either side where the string was pulled out. His hands laid limply in his lap, having done no more than a slight fisting, his metal fingers clicking a couple times.

                True, the pinching feeling had bothered him a little, but he really didn't give as much a reaction as some others.

                "So, do you feel hungry?" queried Sarah.

                "Very, I think I can eat a dragon!"

                "I'm sorry, but you can only have liquids or mush. We don't want to shock your stomach since you've been living off of broth mostly," Sarah said in an almost a clinical manner, but not being able to repress a small smile ghost across her lips.

                "Very well. Do you think I can take a bath afterwards?" John asked hopefully. He felt grimy and his scalp itched a little, which was nothing compared to how greasy it felt. "I feel filthy."

                "I suppose you would since you've had nothing but sponge baths since you've been here. You're too big to move around much."

                John took this in and began to blush. She must've seen him naked to give him a bath and check on him. Sarah saw him blush and giving him a mischievous smile said, "You have nothing to be ashamed of, not that I looked. I made sure you remained decent when I washed you." She gave him a wink. He did not feel reassured.

                He took a look under the sheets to find that he only wore a pair of black boxer shorts.

                "Sorry you have nothing else on, but it would've been too much of a hassle to dress you and such when you were dead to the world. I'll see if I can get some clothes your size, but keep in mind that you're pretty tall. Most of our men would be lucky to reach your chin. I'll be back in a few minutes with your soup."

                With that, Sarah got up and cleared away the little medical equipment she had brought and started for the door.

                "Thank you," said John to her back.

                She gave a nod and continued out the door and down the hallway to the kitchen.

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**: A big thanks to Angela, Meg, and Flamer who helped edit these first few chapters that will come out. My story has yet to be finished so I won't be posting up new chapters that fast. As always, reviews would be appreciated.


	3. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

John stared at the open door. He decided to try and explore a little. Besides, he felt that he needed to find a bathroom to relieve himself. He then thought with embarrassment and disgust how Sarah probably had also cleaned up after him.

He pulled the covers back and brought his legs off the bed. His feet touched the cool wooden floor. His muscles didn't feel too stiff so John assumed that Sarah moved his limbs around for him while he had been unconscious. He heaved himself up and staggered onto his feet. He clutched the bedpost then let go as he tottered over to the doorway. He grabbed the doorframe and looked down the hall. It only went to the left because to the right it was a dead-end right next to the door. Down the length of the hallway were doors.

'Must be the other patients,' John thought.

He looked down at himself and thought, 'I am NOT going out in only boxers!'

He turned around and scanned the room for anything. He spotted a small closet and made his way there. He opened the closet to find some sort of black uniform folded and put aside in the corner. There was also a pair of green pants. But he found both were bloodstained and thought that it would be uncomfortable in that uniform, although the green pants seemed okay. He knew it had to have been his since the right sleeve of the uniform was missing to allow his mechanical arm through. He put those back and closed the closet. He went back to the bed and pulled the thin sheet from off of it, put it around his shoulders and grabbed the sheet closed so no one could see anything. He tottered back to the door and made it out into the hallway. A few of the doors were open so he decided to ask the occupants of those rooms for directions to the bathroom.

He rapped on an open door with his left hand and poked a head in to see a couple of young girls playing cards. They looked up and had a quizzical expression on their faces.

"Sorry to bother you, but do you know where the bathroom is?" John asked with a slight smile.

"Uh huh! Go straight down the hall and take a left at the end. It'll be the first door you see," replied a girl with curly brown hair. She couldn't have been more than five years old. The other girl who had straight sandy blonde hair just looked up shyly at him with a smile.

He smiled at the two girls and said, "Thanks." He went down the hall as instructed, hearing them giggle as he left.

After he was done with "business" he decided to head back to his room since Sarah said "a few minutes" and didn't want her to get worried if she returned to an empty room. Besides, he was already getting tired.

As he walked back down the hall to his room, he spotted the two girls again. They were now playing with a wooden doll and an old child's tea set that was missing parts, the ancient china was chipped and cracked. They looked up when they heard his footsteps and smiled at him.

"Sir, what is your name?" asked the curly brown haired girl.

John paused in his walking and was silent for a moment.

"John," he finally answered. "And what are your names?"

"Mine is Brittany and this is Lindsey," replied the curly haired girl as she chucked her thumb back at the sandy haired blonde, now known as Lindsey.

"You better go now, Mr. John. Miss Sarah just walked into your room a few seconds ago."

"Oh. Thank you again. Maybe I'll see you two later." He gave them another smile and proceeded to his room.

When he finally shuffled up to the door he saw that Sarah was changing his bed sheets. She heard his footsteps and looked over her shoulder.

"I was wondering where you went," she said as she tucked the new sheets into the mattress and then straightens the sheets out more. She finally finished fixing the bed and began folding the old ones. She turned and gave an amused smile when she saw him hugging the bed sheet around himself. She walked towards him and he wondered what she was going to do.

She had a strange glint in her eyes and he only had a moment to ponder this when she suddenly grabbed the sheet off of John. He yelped and tried to reach for the sheet, but she sidestepped away from him and giggled.

"On the bed NOW! You're going to eat your soup and then I've arranged for the bath tub to be free for your use afterwards," Sarah stated. "There's no use for you to get dressed since you'll be bathing soon."

She smirked as he ducked his head and nodded as he went to the bed as directed. Sarah folded up the sheet she was now in possession of and set it on top of the other folded sheets.

John quickly jumped into bed and covered his lap with a corner of the fresh sheets. He saw a tray on the nightstand that had a lightly steaming bowl of broth with small chunks of vegetables and what looked like grain.

He picked up the tray and set it on his lap. Ever mindful of his metal hand he picked up the spoon with his left hand. It was slightly awkward, so he figured he must have been right-handed.

The soup tasted great! It had the right amount of spices and the grain filled him up. He quietly finished his soup and set the spoon down in the now empty bowl. He drank the glass of water that was also on the tray and then set the tray back on the nightstand. He scanned the room for something to cover himself with, but only found the sheets on his bed.

"I know what you're thinking, but the bathroom is only a couple doors down and you can have a change of clothing after the bath. Besides, there's hardly anyone down on this end of the hall other than a couple girls. You probably met them by now."

"Yes, I have."

"Well? Don't just sit there! Your bath will get cold!"

John jumped up off the bed, but then staggered at the sudden motion. Sarah was by his side in an instant and steadied him, cradling his left arm.

"Are you okay?" she asked, very concerned.

John waited a moment for the slight dizzy feeling and blackness clouding his vision to fade before he gave a nod.

"Maybe you should rest awhile and take that bath later."

"No, it's okay. Besides, I _really_ need a bath," John insisted, trying to wave off Sarah's concerns.

She gave an uncertain "As you wish," but continued holding his arm, to which he had no objections. She led him across the semi-wide hallway three doors down into the bathroom. Inside, the floor and walls were tiled a pale-green, the bathroom had a bath tub at the far end of the small room. There was also a very small wooden stool leaned up against the right wall, in the center of the room was where a drain was located. There was a showerhead up six feet on the wall directly above the stool and drain. The room was very steamy and a little dim. Steamy because the tub was full with hot water and dim because there was only two small lights. One in the far right corner above the tub and the second in the left hand corner by the door, where a sink and mirror was placed. Beside those was a towel rack with towels and washcloths.

"Okay. Take off your underwear and put on a towel. Before you ask, I'm telling you this now. There is no way that I'm going to have someone getting killed slipping on this floor or drown in the tub on my watch. I am not going anywhere. You've almost fainted already," Sarah ordered mock-tersely to John before he could say anything.

He stared at her dumbfounded. 

"Well? Come on!" She tossed a towel at him. "I won't look."

She gave him an impish grin and locked the door as she turned away from him.

'She _can't_ be serious!' John thought, taken aback by her actions. But she was _very_ serious. He gulped, his throat suddenly dry.

"Do I need to do _that_ for you too?" she threatened and made grabbing motions toward his boxers. He stumbled backwards and against the tiled wall and stuttered, "N... No, I could do it!"

She smirked and turned around again, waiting.

He took his boxer shorts off quickly and replaced it with the towel. Sarah turned around to face him with her arms crossed as he tucked the end of the towel in around his waist.

"There now. That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

She took his boxer shorts and hung it on the towel rack and took a washcloth and a bar of soap. She took the three steps back to him and gently took a hold of his left arm and led him to the small stool, which she straightened on the floor and motioned for him to sit down. He sat down stiffly on the short wooden stool, mindful of the white towel wrapped around his hips.

Sarah reached up to the showerhead and pulled it out of the wall to reveal a hose attached to the showerhead. She brought the nozzle to her hand and twisted it to turn on the water. The water was pleasantly hot, not hot enough to burn. She went around to face his back and started showering his back, mindful of his metal arm. His tense muscles relaxed a little under the warm spray.

"That feel good?" asked Sarah over his shoulder. John nodded. His eyes were closed and he let himself slump on his stool.

Sarah soaked the washcloth and rubbed it on the bar of soap into a rich lather. She put the bar of soap down and turned off the water. She had him soaked from head to toe, the towel soaked through too.

John's eyes slowly opened when the gentle thrum and patter of the water ceased. He turned his head back at her with questioning eyes through wet bangs. She started to gently, but firmly, rub his back with the lathered up washcloth. He turned and faced forward with his eyes closed and head turned downward. Her gentle hands moved from his back to his left arm. She rubbed the soapy cloth on his pale skin as she moved back to his shoulders and neck and then slowly made her way down to his chest and stomach.

John's head began to swim from the gentle physical contact and Sarah's close proximity to him. With a foamy hand he stopped her from anymore rubbing and said quietly, "I'll take it from here."

She gave a slight blush, but he didn't see it and she turned around for some privacy.

He finished rubbing his lower body and legs and picked up the nozzle and hose and turned it on. He sprayed all the soap off then re-wrapped the towel about his waist. He then re-wets his hair and face and washed his face with one hand with the cloth. He wondered if he should worry about his metal arm rusting since even though they were careful not to get it wet, it inevitably happened as the steam collected on it like the fogged up mirror by the door.

Sarah heard the water stop and him sitting still so she assumed he was done. She turned around and brought out a small bottle of shampoo from her apron and poured some on his head and began rubbing it in. John leaned back into her hands as she massaged his scalp and got his hair all foamy. He almost wanted to protest when she stopped, but refrained.

"Close your eyes. You don't want to get any shampoo in them," instructed Sarah.

He did as he was told and soon felt water sprayed on his head.

"Okay. All done. Now you can go soak in the tub a while as I get you some clothes."

Sarah helped him up and led him to the tub. He slowly stepped into it since it was so hot and let himself adjust to it as he slowly lowered himself into the tub. He leaned back and brought his left arm into the water, leaving his right resting on the edge of the tub.

"I'll be right back. If you want to shave off your beard, which I think you should, the razors are by the sink." And with that she left him resting in the tub.

Sarah had actually wanted to say that he should shave off his beard since he was so handsome. Her cheeks colored at that thought.

She went to her mother's office hoping she would be there. Her mother was a doctor and she was teaching Sarah the skills necessary to become one.

Sarah was twenty-four and had been learning from her mother since as far back as she can remember.

When the men brought John in about a month ago, her mother thought she was experienced enough to sew up his wound. So she had let John become Sarah's patient for her to learn.

They lived in a large house that her mother had turned into a hospital out near the country. Sarah's father was a wealthy merchant, but he had died serving the Zaibach military he was drafted into. He didn't want to fight, but he was forced to lest he put his family into danger.

And so, they lived near one of the few farming communities in the technologically advanced Zaibach Empire.

After the war had ended, many blamed it on the lust for power and advanced technology, so they turned to the simple life of farming. This did not mean that everyone thought this way. Most still were trying to reclaim the lost glory of Zaibach and fighting many other groups of the Zaibach military, trying to gain control. These were done by unorganized factions and fortunately far away from the few farming communities.

Sarah knocked on her mother's office door and waited patiently.

"Come in," came a slightly tired, but non the less cheery voice.

"Mother?" Sarah asked as she opened the door and closed it behind her when she stepped into the office.

"Hmm?"

Sarah's mother was busy looking over files and papers sprawled all over her desk. Her mother swore it was organized and that she could find anything in a second. She was hunched over her desk with spectacles sitting at the end of her nose and pushing thick curly black hair back and away from her face.

"Mother. John is finally awake and I need to find clothes big enough to fit him."

"Who?" her mother asked. She finally looked up and took her glasses off.

"You know, the white haired young man with the mechanical arm and purple tattoos? He finally woke up at around noon when I went to check on him and he apparently doesn't remember a thing. It must be amnesia since you said he had a big concussion on his head," Sarah elaborated.

"Oh my. Yes, him. If he doesn't remember anything, how does he remember his name?"

"He doesn't. I named him. So, do we have any clothes for him? I know he's definitely over six feet tall. At least by three of four inches."

"Well…" her mother started slowly, "your father's clothes may fit him. He was fairly tall."

She blinked away the mist in her eyes at the mention of Sarah's father.

"Thank you Mother. You should meet him sometime. Maybe tomorrow when he's rested again."

Sarah turned to go and her mother smiled up at her then returned to her paper work.

Sarah walked away from the front office to the back of the house/hospital to her mother's and her former father's room. She stepped inside the large room and went to a large chest in the back corner of the room where some of her father's clothes were stored away. She opened the chest almost reverently. Her choices were limited for the top because of John's metal arm. After a few minutes Sarah found a large white tank top. A few more minutes of searching rewards her with a pair of worn tan colored pants that seemed long enough for John's long legs. She folded these up and closed the chest.

She knew she should get something long sleeved for John, since fall was coming soon, but she didn't have time at the moment to alter one of the shirts for him.

She knocked on the bathroom door and without waiting for an answer, entered the room. When she walked in and closed the door she found that John was still in the tub, sleeping. His face was relaxed and he was breathing soft, even, deep breaths.

Her eyes softened as she gave him a gentle smile. He looked so peaceful. She set his clothing on the towel rack and quietly walked over to his side where his metal arm was resting on the tub's edge. She squatted beside him and placed her left hand on the tub behind his arm to keep herself steady. She studied his face as she had many times when she tended to him while he was unconscious. She wondered, like many times before, why he had those purple tattoos and almost cringed to think how painful it must have been to get the ones at the corners of his eyes. They were simple and yet artistic.

She noted that his hair had at least grown a centimeter and that the silver hair on his face looked silky rather than stiff and scratchy as facial hair tends to be. As she contemplated on his face, their heads about a foot away from each other, intense dark red eyes suddenly snapped open.

Sarah gasped in surprise and fell backward, but caught herself on her hands, which had flown back. John sat up in the tub and looked concerned.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he leaned over the edge.

Sarah was blushing furiously and John noticed this.

"Umm, yeah, I'm okay. Just got surprised. I thought you were sleeping," she answered him, very flustered.

"I was," he lied. Actually, he had been sleeping, but he woke up when she knocked. He kept his eyes closed and waited to see what would happen. He opened his eyes just a crack to watch her, enough to see but not enough for Sarah to notice.

As she had studied his face he had studied hers. She had a fair complexion, he could not spot a single blemish on her perfect skin. She had a slight darkness that suggested some outside activity. Her piercing, ice blue eyes were soft and her mouth was a gentle curve.

She was beautiful.

He regretfully decided it was time to get out of the tub, although he could have spent an eternity just studying her face.

Sarah was standing and somehow managed to control her blush somewhat. 

"Are you done with your bath?"

John looked up at her and answered, "Yes."

"Then let me get you a dry towel and I'll help you up."

Sarah walked to the towel rack and got a towel and his clothes. She returned to his side and placed the items in a dry spot by the wall, a couple feet away from the tub. She reached her left hand to John's upper right arm. John's eyes widened in wonder at why she would want to touch the metal mockery of an arm. He remained silent and took his left hand out of the water to hold Sarah's right. She pulled him up as he stood and soon he was towering over her. Her left hand was still placed on the cool metal of his right arm as he stepped out of the tub.

She let go of his arm, but her right hand lingered for a moment more in his left. She finally let go of that hand and went to get the dry towel and clothes. She handed him the towel then turned around. John un-wrapped the wet towel and let it drop to the floor with a wet 'plop'. He began drying himself and was now left with partially dry hair.

"May I have my clothes, please?"

Sarah complied without turning around. John took them from her hands and tucked them under his right arm as he pulled out the black boxers and put them on. He then put on the tan pants, which he found were slightly tight about the legs, but they reached down, past his ankles. He put on the tank top, relieved that his right arm fit through. He would rather have had something to cover his arm, like a cloak or something, but he knew he was already in debt to these people and didn't want to burden them further.

"I'm all dressed now."

Sarah turned around and looked John up and down saying, "Nice. Now let's go shave that scruff off your face."

"Aren't you at least going to let me see if I want to or not? I haven't even seen what I look like yet!"

"Oh, yes, I guess you wouldn't since you have amnesia. But trust me, you look better clean shaven."

John walked up to the sink mirror and wiped the fog away with the towel he still had in his hands. He blinked at himself. Yep. He was an albino. His damp aqua-silver hair hung in his eyes and dark red eyes stared back at him from the mirror. He brought up his left hand and traced the three tattoos on his face then brought it down to stroke his developing beard on his thin and pale face.

"Maybe I should shave," John thought out loud.

Sarah's eyes brightened as she pulled out shaving cream and the razors and handed them to him.

"Thank you," he said as he lifted them from her hands.

She nodded then brought out a stool from under the towel rack and sat on it. She watched him apply the shaving cream to his face. She remembered as a little girl always watching her father shave in the morning. It had become some sort of a ritual.

John sometimes glanced at her through the mirror as he began shaving himself, being careful not to cut himself as he stretched his skin under his nose. Just as he thought he was finished and about to clean up Sarah spoke up and said, "You missed a spot."

"Where?"

John was sure he got everything.

"A patch under your chin and near your neck."

"I can't see it, are you sure it's there?" he asked as he tilted his head up and tried to look in the mirror. He finally turned around and lifted an eyebrow at Sarah.

Sarah sighed and rolled her eyes then got up from her stool and took the razor from John's hands. She reached up to his now smooth face and he hunched over a little so it would be easier for her. She lifted his chin then carefully shaved off the patch she had spoken of. She then rinsed the razor and cleaned off any remaining shaving cream off his face with a damp cloth.

As she withdrew her hand, John grabbed it in a gentle hold.

"Thank you," he said softly to her, still holding her raised hand and looking her straight in the eyes.

Her eyes widened a little with surprise and a gentle blush graced her cheeks.

"You don't need to thank me. It was just a spot."  
"Not just that, but for taking care of me this whole time. From the time I was unconscious to the moment I woke up in confusion. You are so gentle and kind, whether this is a duty as a doctor or not. I thank you for that." He then lifted the back of her hand to his lips and gave it a light kiss.

Sarah stood still, stunned into silence. She never expected this! Sure, she expected a little bit of gratitude from a patient she had helped. A "thank you" was all she expected. Her blush darkened a bit more as she looked down to the side and pulled her hand away from his warm and loose grasp.

"I'm sure you still feel tired and a bit weak, even with the nap in the tub. You should rest a bit more. I'll come back when dinner is ready and if you feel okay you could eat with the rest of us and meet a few other patients."

Sarah still didn't look at him directly and after she tidied up the bathroom for someone else's use she led him back to his room by his elbow and then left him standing by himself at his door.

John wondered if she was upset at him. He didn't believe he did anything improper, or perhaps she didn't have an interest in him as he had thought when he saw her studying his face so intently. Maybe it was only an interest a doctor has for her patient to make sure of their health.

John walked to his bed and sat down. He hadn't meant for Sarah to feel uncomfortable. Then another thought entered his head. Could she already be courting someone?

He cursed quietly to himself and hoped she would forgive him. He brought his bare feet up onto the bed and lay back on top of the covers and drifted off to sleep thinking of how to apologize to Sarah.

****

AUTHOR'S Notes: Just as you do in acting for emotions, I sorta did in this story. I draw from my own experience, but only a little, like some of the characters. They're based on friends, stories about relatives, and myself. The rest is from Escaflowne and my imagination, obviously.

If you guys are interested, here are some facts about what's in the story now and what will be in future chapters. Kancia and Nanaii are based on my friends, that means the way they act are the way my friends act, even some things like Nanaii traveling to visit her relatives annually. 

Aunt Rena's name that had originated from her real name Tatarena was based on my Great Aunt Ta. Her real name was Catharine, but her younger sister couldn't pronounce it right and called her "Tatarin" and it was later shortened to "Ta". 

The set up of the bathroom that Sarah took John (Folken) to was pretty close to what the bathrooms in Japan are like. The toilet does not share the same room as the bathtub. They are in separate rooms. You normally wash yourself before you go into the tub. If you've seen Ranma, then you should have seen the bathroom from time to time. There's usually a showerhead on a hose, a small stool to sit on as you wash yourself, and of course, the bathtub. I meant for the one in the story to be European style, because Japanese tubs are really deep, I love them because you can be sitting up and the water will go up to your chin. While the European, or American style is more shallow and you'd have to lean or lay in the tub to get the water to cover your whole body.

Yes, there will be horses in this fic because I don't think cars will be available to civilians, I remember that Zaibach at least have something similar to a tank, maybe without weapons, when Dornkirk had those soldiers kill Leon Schezar for his journal. 

I think that's enough info for now. Please REVIEW!


	4. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

Sarah was walking to her room nervous and dazed. She didn't know how to respond to John's behavior. She entered her room and closed the door. She then walked to her bed and sat on it cross-legged. She was wringing her hands and biting her lip. She felt a little lightheaded and seemed to be lacking for air and found herself breathing almost rapidly.

'Okay, slow down. He was just expressing his gratitude. Nothing more. Then why am I so panicky?'

Sarah tried to calm herself down, but every time she thought of what had happened the short period of calm was forgotten.

'You are not some teenager! You're a young woman now!' she scolded herself.

After about half an hour of the cycle of being calm and then panicky, she finally calmed down to a semblance of her usual self, albeit still a little nervous. She finally decided she needed to see her friend Kancia.

Kancia was a plump red headed girl whom was also twenty-four. Sarah had known her since elementary school. She has had at least three boyfriends and now was with her fourth.

Sarah would rather talk with her mother, but she didn't want to disrupt her mother's work. So that left Kancia. She had another friend, Nanaii, whom she felt a little bit closer to since they were more alike. Nanaii was twenty-five, quiet but had a sense of humor. She was very petite, thin, and had light brown hair. However, she was visiting family in a distant city at the edge of farmland of a different farming community. 

Sarah brought out faded blue pants and took off her white apron and sky blue skirt. She tugged on her pants and looked under her bed for her leather boots that went past her ankle. She spotted them and snatched them from under her bed. She kicked off her black soft-soled slip-ons and then remembered she needed her socks. She rummaged through her drawers and found a matching pair and slipped those on. She then tugged on the dark brown leather boots and laced them up.

With a final tug at the tied laces she tucked her white short sleeved shirt into her pants and left her room. With trinkets, books, and clothing scattered throughout her room, one would think she wouldn't be amazed at the clutter on her mother's office desk.

She walked to her mother's front office and knocked on the door.

"Mother? I'm going over to Kancia's."

"Okay, but be back around five."

"Okay. Bye."

That gave Sarah three hours to be back. She went out through the back door rather than go out the front door and around to the back where the stables were. They owned four horses. One for each of the family and the fourth just in case. They had fourteen stalls. The other ten were for patients' horses. Inside the building there were two aisles. In between the two aisles were storage rooms for tack and things of that sort. There were seven stalls against the opposite walls. She went down the right aisle to the first stall where her horse was kept. He was a big blue-black gelding with golden-brown eyes. He was fifteen years old.

Unlike most horses, his tail had not been broken at the base to stand up, as was the style. She had thought it cruel when she found out as a young child that these horses tails didn't come naturally up.

When she walked through the door he lifted his head from his feed and came to the stall door, looking expectantly through the bars with his ears perked up.

"You look so cute when you do that, Hessen," she spoke softly, reaching through the bars to scratch his neck, near the ears. "I'll be right back."

He followed her with his eyes as she stepped back and greeted the other horses on her way down to the tack room. A couple minutes later she came back with a saddle, girth, bridle, and some brushes.

She set these things down outside his stall and took the halter off his stall door and opened the door. He was a fairly large horse. She could barely look over his back. She put the halter on his head and clipped on the crossties in his stall. She quickly went over his pretty shiny body with the currycomb and brushes, then picked out packed dirt and manure from his three-toed hooves with a hoof pick.

With all that done, she saddled him and then put on the bridle after she removed the halter. She picked up her riding stick from beside the stall door then led Hessen out of his stall by the reigns. She pulled the stirrups down then walked him over beside the bench that was placed against the storage rooms between the aisles and climbed onto Hessen's back after she checked the girth one last time. She checked her stirrup lengths and found them satisfactory. She squeezed Hessen with her legs and they walked out of the building.

Another unusual feature of her horse was the fact that you mounted him from the left side instead of the right.

After they were away from the buildings, she got Hessen to pick up the trot. Instead of going down the driveway to the paved road and hard packed dirt, she turned to the flat fields on the right to her friend's house. She didn't want to worry about Hessen's legs getting injured on the hard road. At the edge of her lawn she asked Hessen to canter and he complied. She loved to canter on him and seeing trees rush by. The air on her face and through her hair made it seem as if they were flying.

Ten minutes later found them slowing down to a walk and coming to the front of Kancia's house. It was a large two-story house. Not as large as Sarah's, but then again it wasn't being used as a hospital either.

She patted Hessen's neck and slid off. She put up the stirrups and loosened the girth, then brought the reigns over his head and dropped them to ground-tie him. She scratched his neck then left him to graze as she walked up to the front door.

She knocked and the door immediately opened. Apparently someone spotted her through the window as she rode up to the house.

"Sarah! I haven't seen you in a week! I was going to come over tomorrow to see if you felt like going out to town," gushed the petite and plump Kancia.

It was true that Sarah didn't see her friends much since school ended because of her chores at home and taking care of patients. Usually in her spare time she felt like sitting around and reading in her father's study, curled up in a large armchair with her favorite books. If it weren't for her interacting with the patients, she would seem solitary.

Kancia was normally the one to drag her out of the house to talk or go shopping. Sarah didn't care for shopping for clothing, but the bookstore and library got her attention and the occasional bazaar.

Kancia led Sarah to the living room where the took a seat on the couch. A pudgy dog soon made an appearance and came up to Sarah to be scratched and petted.

The first thing that flew out of Kancia's mouth was, "So, how's the albino?"

Sarah looked at her while scratching the dog behind the ears and felt a surge of exasperation and annoyance touch her. She held in a sigh. Kancia may be friendly and kind, but she wasn't very tactful at times.

"He's a person, Kancia."

"Yeah, but just thinking of red eyes is scary," Kancia said with a shudder.

At the moment, Sarah didn't want to spend the energy to dissuade Kancia of her prejudices, so she bit back any words that might come out to argue with her.

"Well, anyways. There's this patient named John that I've been taking care of…" started Sarah before she was cut off by Kancia.

"You mean that albino?"

"Yes, 'that albino'! Will you let me finish? Maybe I shouldn't tell you…"

"No. I'm sorry. Go on."

Kancia can be rather annoying at times, but she loved to gossip. Sarah wondered, in the back of her mind, what Kancia told her other friends about her. She hears a lot about Kancia's boyfriends and references to her other friends she doesn't know personally.

"Anyways. As you know, John has been in a coma or something for the past month. Well, he woke up today when I came to check on him around noon. He didn't remember a thing, John isn't even his real name. I just chose it for him since I didn't know what else to call him. He's a bit weak right now since he hasn't been up and about 'til today, so I need to help him walk around and everything. But that should soon pass. Maybe in two days, maybe even tomorrow. All this close contact sorta, I don't know… it's uncomfortable at times…"

"Do you like him?" A mischievous grin had made its way on Kancia's face.

"Not like _that!"_

"You like HIM!"

"Oh, grow up!"

"I can tell? You're blushing!"

"Shut up!" exclaimed Sarah, her blush deepening as her friend teased her. She needed her to be serious.

"What happened between you two? Did you guys kiss?"

"KANCIA?!"

"Come on! Tell me!" she insisted.

"He kissed my hand…" Sarah mumbled.

"Oh Gods!"

Kancia looked foolish with a silly, mirthful grin plastered to her face.

Sarah looked at Kancia, quite irritated by now and wishing she never told her anything, but she didn't have much of a choice. She also felt that since Kancia has had experience with men, it might be easier. Obviously, she was mistaken.

Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, feeling vulnerable with embarrassment and shame. She wasn't sure why shame. Maybe because she felt herself like a tomboy and getting "girly" like girl-talk was very uncomfortable. Especially with Kancia.

"He kissed your hand? You never hear anyone doing that in Zaibach. Only in books and other countries like Asturia!"

They managed to talk for two hours. It was always like this, other than the fact about Sarah talking about a man. Even if they didn't have much to say, they somehow at least end up with an hour-long conversation. Ever since Kancia has been courting, some of the conversation would be about the gentleman caller.

"Come again soon! And if you don't, I'll come over. Okay?" Kancia asked as she and Sarah reach the front door.

"Okay. Well, see you later."

She smiled at Kancia, relieved it was over and walked out the door to Hessen, who watched her attentively in the same spot she had left him.

"Good boy, Hessey!" Sarah praised.

Hessen reached his nose forward and Sarah brought her hand up to his nose. He snuffed at it then brought his big nose back. She stroked his face a little then went to tighten the girth and threw the reins over his head. She pulled the stirrups down then mounted his back from the ground. She preferred to mount him via mounting block, but had to live with it.

They went home and she gave Hessen treats while she took off his tack and brushed him. He was nice and shiny again and she threw on a thin blanket over him so he won't ruin his clean coat. She left the stables after checking all the horses' water.

It was a little after five, but that didn't matter. When riding a horse, being a few minutes late was acceptable.

****

Author's Notes: Yup. My real friend who Kancia is based on is REALLY like that. I'm not kidding, except… okay, maybe not except. She's really like that. 

If you haven't experienced what Sarah has as in that panicky sorta feeling, I guess it's just me. That's exactly how I felt when I was first asked out to the Prom. All light headed and everything.

I told you guys that I would have horses in here!

Thanks to Otaku Pitcher, Empress, Kay Noel, and Ice Eyes for reviewing. I love reading reviews like Scrooge likes counting money, so please REVIEW!


	5. Chapter 4

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Chapter 4

A soft knock was heard at John's door.

"Mr. John? Are you sleeping?" came the small child's voice.

There was no answer so the two girls decided to take a look inside the room. Actually, Brittany decided to since Lindsey just followed Brittany.

The two five-year-olds quietly stepped into the room. Brittany tilted her small head to the side as she studied the sleeping, young man on the bed. They crept over to his side. Brittany decided to climb onto the bed.

"Brit'ny," came the urgent whisper from Lindsey.

"What?" Brittany whispered back.

"Don't do that. What if he gets mad?" Lindsey continued whispering nervously as she shot looks from Brittany to John and back.

"He's nice. I don't think he'll get mad if we tell him it's dinner time," Brittany reasoned. She finally accomplished her goal and was now on the bed crawling over John's stomach. You would think he would wake up by now, but he was exhausted by the day's activities, however small, because of his weakened state.

Brittany sat on his stomach and looked at him. She patted his chest with her small hand and felt something hard. As with most children, she had a curious nature. Her curious hand felt five hard long "somethings" on the right side of John's chest. She followed the hardness to his right arm, which was hidden under the blankets.

Lindsey noticed her friend's sudden interest in John's chest and tried to see what it was.

The five "hard somethings" connected to a "big hard something" where his right arm should've been. Brittany couldn't take it anymore, so she lifted the blanket to see what the "hard something" was.

"Lindsey! Look!"

Brittany was pointing at something Lindsey couldn't quite see. So she climbed onto the bed, crawled over John's legs then up his side to see what Brittany was pointing at. Her eyes narrowed and she tilted her head to the side in a curious fashion.

"What is it?" Lindsey asked.

"I think it's supposed to be his arm. You could almost see how it goes on him through his shirt. I wonder if it hurts?"

The two struggled a little with his blankets to further reveal his arm until, finally, they saw it in its entirety.

"Wow! Look at his hand! It looks like a dragon's!" Brittany whispered excitedly. They touched the cool metal out of curiosity, as with anything else.

"Maybe we should try to wake him up now," suggested Lindsey as the novelty of a metal arm wore off.

"I guess we should," agreed Brittany. "Mr. John? Wake up!"

"Huh?" came a groggy reply.

"It's dinner time!"

"Wha-?"

John blinked his sleepy eyes and squinted at the small figures on and beside him. He finally noticed the weight on his stomach.

"Brittany? Lindsey?" he guessed as he ran his left hand through his aqua-silver hair.

"Yup!"

John gave a small "oof!" when Brittany bounced on him a little. He quickly, but gently, grabbed Brittany with both hands and lowered her to her feet beside his bed. She wiggled in his arms and gave a delighted squeal.

"Your hand's cold!"

He looked down and realized that he forgot to conceal his right arm.

"Mr. John? Why do you wear armor in your sleep?"

John was snapped out of his daze and located the quiet voice and found it was Lindsey's.

"Well," he started slowly. He felt a tug and looked down at Brittany to see that she had a grasp on his metal arm and was giving his shoulder a puzzled look.

"It won't come off!" she exclaimed.

"That's because it's not armor," John explained.

"But it's made out of metal and stuff."

"It's a replacement arm for my real one."

"What happened to your real one?"

'That's what I'd like to know,' thought John darkly.

"Maybe he lost it like his memory," Lindsey suggested in her quiet voice.

John looked back up at Lindsey, stunned.

"How did you know about me losing my memory?"

Lindsey looked down at the bed and traced a finger around on the blanket and replied shyly, "Because you didn't know where the bathroom was."

This confused John, but then she added, "Grown-ups know everything. So if they have to ask kids something, they probably forgot."

This further explanation made John realize that she made a lucky guess and he softened his eyes and smiled at them.

His nap and lunch made him feel much better, but his stomach told him that dinner would be a good idea.

"Well, I guess we don't want to be late for dinner."

John suddenly picked the two girls up and threw them onto his shoulders. They screamed and giggled. They were balanced on their stomachs over his shoulders. One on each. He held onto their waists so they wouldn't fall off, being especially careful with Lindsey since he was handling her with his metal arm and didn't want to crush or scratch her on accident with the clawed and strong metal appendage.

He was surprised and pleased they were not afraid of him, now that they discovered his strange arm.

"So, where do we go?" John asked.

Brittany giggled then said, "Down the hall, like going to the bathroom, but go the other way."

He did as he was told. The hall stretched on for a short distance then he heard talking and the clatter of silverware. He headed towards that sound and came upon an open door where perhaps twenty people were in the process of getting food, eating and talking. A few people glanced up and smiled at him. A few others gave a curious glance at his arm and looked away, not wanting to embarrass themselves by staring. He felt intimidated by the short silence and the feeling that he was alone. He knelt down slowly and carefully unloaded his precious cargo of girls, feet first onto the floor. They immediately took a hold of each of his hands and pull/led him to the opposite side of the room filled with benches and tables where a short, plump, aged lady was serving dinner. She had dark gray hair with silver streaks up in a bun and small spectacles. She wore a white, frilly apron over a black dress with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She had warm, brown eyes that were crinkled from her nice smile. She seemed to glow in a motherly fashion at the three.

John liked the way she looked and relaxed.

"Oh my! My poor dear! You're just skin and bones! I need to fatten you up!" the motherly woman exclaimed as she studied John.

John blushed a little. He was hardly "skin and bones". As Sarah had pointed out in the beginning, he was nicely muscled.

"Aunt Rena! That's what you always say!" protested both girls at the same time.

"Aunt Rena" chuckled and leaned over the table to smooth a hand over both their heads.

"And so I do, but it's the truth! In my day, it was considered unhealthy if you weren't plump!"

"Aunt Rena" looked up at the silent young man and said, "My name is Taterena Kertoa. Everybody calls me Aunt Rena and I'd be pleased if you'd do the same. My younger sister found it hard to call me "Taterena" so she called me "Rena" instead. That's how I got my name."

"My name is John. I have no last name to offer you at the moment, for which I apologize." With that he gave her a little bow of respect.

"I see, you're a charmer with the ladies, aren't you?" Aunt Rena teased, then added, "Well, I don't ever want it said that I starved anyone! Three dinners, coming up!"

She produced three trays from under the table and ladled out three bowls of creamy soup from a large pot that was placed over an energist powered stove. The three trays were soon filled with salad, soup, some sort of roasted bird and a piece of pie with black colored berries in it. Everything looked delicious.

The three thanked Aunt Rena and took their trays of food. John went to the nearest empty table and sat down. The two girls followed him and sat in front of him. He gave them a brief smile and started on his dinner.

****

Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne, or any characters, places, ideas associated with it. I do, however, own the characters not in Escaflowne like Sarah, Brittany, Lindsey, Aunt Rena, and any others that that I have not mentioned or have yet to be introduced.

****

Author's Note: It's fun making up names :-) Thanks for reading and PLEASE REVIEW!!!

The title of this story came from The Real Mother Goose, Copyright 1916, Checkerboard Press, New York.

For Want of a Nail

For want of a nail, the shoe was lost.

For want of the shoe, the horse was lost.

For want of the horse, the rider was lost.

For want of the rider, the battle was lost.

For want of the battle, the kingdom was lost;

And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.

This shows that even little things make a difference.


	6. Chapter 5

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Chapter 5

Sarah approached the dining room in her light blue dress, not wanting to offend anyone's senses with her riding clothes and smell of horses. She welcomed the smell of Aunt Rena's cooking which had wafted down the hall to her nose, barely able to contain an appreciative smile at the prospect of a tasty meal.

Sarah entered the dining room and smiled at the patients there. She spotted Lindsey, Brittany…and John. She had checked John's room to find him missing and the girls were gone as well so she had assumed they all went down to the dining room.

After Sarah picked up her dinner she walked over to the three and asked, "May I join you guys?"

"Of course," answered John as the two girls said, "Yes!"

John made room on the bench for Sarah and she sat as she set her tray down on the table. She sat to his left and felt dwarfed in comparison to him.

The two girls had resumed eating but caught John giving a sweet smile to Sarah when she wasn't looking. He went back to his food. Their meal was relatively quiet since the four were concentrating on eating with John and Sarah giving surreptitious glances at each other. These glances weren't missed by Aunt Rena, who was having her dinner across the room from them. She smiled to herself when the two caught each other looking and quickly looked away in embarrassment.

'They're so obvious,' Aunt Rena thought with maternal warmth.

Some patients noticed the two also and were sure to tease Sarah later.

The four soon finished their meal and returned the trays and plates to Aunt Rena's food table and thanked Aunt Rena for the tasty and filling dinner. They filed out of the dining room and the kids ran ahead of the young adults.

"Where are they going?" asked John.

"Probably outside," answered Sarah.

It was around six o'clock now. Dinner was served early since most of the patients went to bed early to recuperate from their injuries or illnesses.

"Would you like to go outside for some fresh air?" Sarah queried, looking up at John from beside him.

"Yes, I think I would."

Sarah took a hold of John's prosthetic arm and led him down the hall and stairs to the door that would lead them outside of the hospital/mansion. The whole time John watched Sarah and wished he could actually feel her hands on his arm and gave a wistful sigh.

Before opening the door Sarah looked back at John. She had heard him sigh.

"Is something wrong?" she asked very concerned. Her brows were pushed together.

He gave her a feeble smile and said, "No, I'm fine. Don't worry so much about me."

"But I have to worry. You just got out of a coma today; we're almost to a chair. I don't want you to pass out on me."

She reached up with her right hand and brushed away his hair on his forehead to feel it. He almost closed his eyes at the delicate touch of her hand on his head. He wanted more of this contact. His metal arm had seemed to mock him when Sarah held onto it to lead him.

Sarah finally removed her hand from John's forehead, satisfied that he was not fevered or clammy. She opened the front door and led him outside. She brought him to some chairs that were off to the side and motioned for him to sit down. She took a seat next to him and was silent. It was still sunny and the sky was a beautiful light blue with a few fluffy white clouds dotting it. The leaves on the trees and bushes were starting to turn color for fall and promised a brilliant display of color some day soon.

In the distance bird song could be heard. Everything was peaceful.

In the peace John's thoughts turned to Sarah again. He was slightly nervous. He hoped she didn't have a boyfriend. He liked her. That wasn't saying much since she was the only one he had spoken in length with. She was the first living being he saw when he woke up and the most familiar as she was the one taking care of him.

He wished very hard that he could remember his past, before Sarah and this place. But all that he came up with was a blank. An empty place where all his memories should have been. And in this vast darkness he felt fear. What if he never finds his past? What if he was forever John? A man with no past, no real name? He was afraid of that darkness, it was a place of hopelessness and vulnerability. He felt he was going to drown in the dark that was his mind. Then he saw a light. A very concerned light.

"John?"

Everything became a hazy gray and he finally saw a face: Sarah.

"John? Please say something!"

Sarah was standing in front of John who had either passed out or fallen asleep. She had taken a hold of his shoulder and was gently shaking him in hopes of reviving him fearful that he may have relapsed into a coma.

"Huh?" came John's fuzzy reply.

"Jeez! Don't scare me like that! I thought you went back into a coma or something. Are you all right?" a very relieved Sarah asked.

John thought of all his fears and began to ache. He snapped his head to look down at his metal arm. A stabbing pain soon replaced the ache where his right arm had been. He gasped and squeezed his eyes shut from the enormous pain.

"What's wrong? Are you in pain?" Sarah asked. She had noticed his look at his metal arm.

'Phantom pain?' she thought.

"Does your arm hurt?" She guessed.

He nodded.

With deft fingers she began to massage the flesh around his metal arm. The pain started to fade as her fingers and hands worked their magic. His tensed body relaxed as the pain faded.

After a few minutes she asked, "Do you feel better?"

"Yes, the pain is just about gone. How did you do that?"

"Well, I figured you must be experiencing Phantom pain and the treatment for that is to massage the affected area. Maybe from tomorrow I should get you to exercise. The best way to keep it at bay is by having increased blood flow to the area. Stress and weather changes can bring it on. I suppose you would be stressed since you can't remember who you are, that's understandable.

"Well," Sarah started with a cheerful expression, trying to change the serious atmosphere, "let's go back in. It's starting to get a bit chilly out here."

"I guess so."

Sarah pulled him up to his feet by his left arm and steadied him. She walked him to his room and was preparing to leave when John reached for her shoulder and said, "Um, will you please stay?"

Sarah turned and looked into his eyes. They were pleading and behind that was fear. She wasn't sure if she saw that since it seemed to disappear, hidden. She said, "Okay, I'll stay until you go to sleep." 

John's features were washed in relief visibly and he dropped his hand from her shoulder. He was afraid to be alone since it seemed the dark swallowed him when he was alone. Sarah was his light.

On his bed were a pair of large pale blue drawstring pants and yet another white tank top. These were some more clothes Sarah had found for him along with sets of clothing she had placed in his closet after she came back from Kancia's. The mentioned set of clothing were to be his sleeping clothes.

Sarah turned around when John showed his intent of changing. A few moments later found her helping him into bed. She closed the curtains to his window to block the sunlight that was still coming in so he could sleep.

She sat on the chair that was beside his bed and watched him. John looked up at her and slowly reached for her hand then clasped it and brought it to his chest and held it there. She let him since he seemed to need reassurance. She felt his heart beating under her hand.

His breathing finally became slow and steady as he drifted into sleep. His hand still holding hers to his chest. Sarah reluctantly slid her hand out of his loose hold and brought the covers over his broad shoulders up to his neck and.

She slowly straightened up with her hands trailing across his chest and left the room with the door quietly closed behind her.

Sarah walked to her mother's office where she knew her to still be in. She opened the door and walked in, noting how it seemed her mother was in the exact same position as she was last. The only difference was the rearranged piles of paper.

Sarah's mother looked up from her desk and asked, "So, how's John?"

"He's alright, but he had an attack of phantom pain."

"I trust he's alright now?"

"Yes, I massaged him right after it became apparent that he was in pain."

"Good. Now aren't you glad I made you read all those text books?" Sarah's mother asked with a devilish grin.

Sarah made a face and didn't dignify that with an answer.

"So, not only does he have traumatic retrograde amnesia, but he also has phantom pain. Poor John! He just had to fall into the small percentage group!" commented Sarah's mother.

"We should probably put up posters of him to see if anyone knows him after he regains his strength a bit," suggested Sarah.

"Sounds good to me," said her mother as her gaze returned to the paper work.

"You know what?" she started suddenly, "I think I'm going to quit for the day. Do you want to come with me for the evening rounds?"

"No thanks, Mother. I'll just go find the girls and give them a bath before bedtime," Sarah replied.

"Okay. I'll see you later then."

Sarah and her mother walked out of the office and went separate ways down the hall.

Author's Notes: Hehe, I love writing that! :-P Anyways, have you guys ridden horses before? Apparently after I come back from riding I *really* smell like horses. I don't notice all that much since I'm used to the smell.

Medical terms- I tried my best in researching what exactly I was looking for and I found that there was traumatic and retrograde amnesia. What I wanted was a mixture of both so that's how I wrote it since I don't know the actual term. I looked up some sites on phantom pain as well and hopefully I wrote it correctly. If anyone spots a mistake I'd appreciate it if you would be so kind as to point it out to me.

Having dinner at 5:00 PM is early for me, although I know some families eat dinner then.

I live in Alaska and during the summer the sun seems to be always out, even when the sun has "set" it is still light outside. During the winter it is very dark and you can definitely tell that the days are shorter. It can be as little as 5 hours of daylight in my area. But the advantage to that are the beautiful sunsets.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6  
  
John struggled with his blankets as he tossed and turned, giving an occasional groan in his sleep. He finally gasped awake and sat up in bed, sheets twisted around him, hair plastered down with sweat. He ran his hand through his damp hair and took a deep breath.  
  
John knew he must have had some sort of nightmare, but it was already lost in the haze that was his mind. It was the same frustrating haze that stole his memory.  
  
He glanced up towards the window and noted that the sun was probably just coming up since the curtains seemed to give a light glow. He scanned the room only to find himself alone. He wished that Sarah was there to chase away the ominous darkness that surrounded him, save for the window.  
  
John untangled himself from his bedspread and stripped off his hank-top and drawstring pants that somehow twisted up in an uncomfortable fashion about his legs. Both were damp and made him feel hot. He straitened the blankets that were strewn about his bed and floor then went back under the covers to try to get more sleep.  
  
Although John didn't do any strenuous activities, he was still recovering and in need of more rest. He ended up staring at the ceiling for quite a while trying to remember his nightmare. After that endeavor proved fruitless his thoughts went to Sarah. He gave a faint smile.  
  
'She's kind and patient,' he thought. He chuckled to himself when he thought the word 'patient' because it brought up her threatening to remove his boxers for him. 'Yeah, very patient.'  
  
His smile faded. Although he couldn't explain it, he felt as though he had been lonely before. He tried to push away the depressing thought, but when that didn't work he knew he needed to fill that void in his heart as well as the void in his mind.  
  
With that final thought he went back into a restless sleep.  
  
Sarah was walking to John's room. She had gotten up early that morning, as was the usual, to check on the patients. She got embarrassed at some of their comments about how she and John had looked at each other throughout dinner. She didn't think it was that obvious, but she was happy to know that John seemed to share the same feelings.  
  
'Wait. What feelings?' Sarah asked herself as she stopped dead in her tracks. 'C'mon! Don't kid yourself! You have a crush on HIM! No I don't! Yes you do! This has to be serious. You're a young woman now and there must be something you see in him if you have a crush on him at this age. I haven't had a crush on anyone since fourth grade! Exactly my point!'  
  
"This is ridiculous! I'm battling myself in my head! Wait a minute. I'm talking to myself now. This is bad," Sarah mumbled humorously to herself.  
  
By this point she was at John's door and knocked before entering. She walked toward the window, but midway almost tripped on something soft and damp. She stepped over whatever it was and opened the curtains. Bright sunlight streamed in and lit up the room.  
  
Sarah turned towards the rest of the room and saw that the 'soft and damp' thing was John's sleeping garments.  
  
'He must have gotten terribly sweaty last night,' Sarah thought.  
  
Just then she heard a moan. She looked at John and saw that his sheets were twisted up around him and had failed to cover his bare chest and a leg. He did not have a peaceful look on his face as many adopt in their sleep either. She walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"John, wake up!"  
  
He did not wake up immediately, but when he did he blinked and squinted in the light that streaked across his room and sat up. His bare skin that did not get covered by comforters was cold except where Sarah had her hand placed.  
  
"Sarah?" he asked when he looked up into her face.  
  
"Yes, it's me. Are you all right? Did you have a nightmare?" a concerned Sarah asked.  
  
"Yes, I think so. I can't remember any of it though. I'm a bit cold."  
  
Sarah rubbed his left arm to warm it up a little and said, "You are cold. Just a sec while I pull out some clothes for you."  
  
She left his side and went to the closet. She opened it and pulled out dark evergreen colored pants and a thick long-sleeved shirt that was colored somewhere between Prussian and sky blue. Sarah laid these out on the end of the bed. She pulled out her scissors from her apron and started to cut off the right sleeve.  
  
After she finished, her eyebrows suddenly raised.  
  
"What?" asked John.  
  
"I just remembered something. I'll be right back!" Sarah replied as she ran out the door.  
  
John raised a single silver eyebrow.  
  
A few minutes later Sarah was back and now holding something that was cerulean blue.  
  
"They're new boxers. Nobody's worn them yet. I'm pretty sure you would want to change your underwear," she explained.  
  
His cheeks glowed a little as he mumbled "Thanks" to her when she handed him the undergarment.  
  
"Do you think you can stand without swaying?" asked Sarah.  
  
"I think so. I don't feel sore or dizzy," he replied.  
  
"Well, we'll just see about that soon enough. Get up."  
  
John stood up off the bed and sure enough he did not sway and seemed steady on his feet.  
  
"I'll be right outside the door. I want you to get dressed. After that we'll make your bed then we'll go down to get breakfast. I'm starving!"  
  
John nodded at Sarah who then left the room and closed the door. A few minutes passed and she wondered if he was having any trouble changing. At that moment the door opened. John was dressed and had made the bed. Sarah looked at the bed, mildly surprised. It was made military style and was smooth and sharp enough to bounce a coin off of it.  
  
"Is something wrong?" John asked when he saw that Sarah seemed to be staring at his bed.  
  
"Not at all. It's just that you made your bed military style. When they brought you in we did suspect you were in the Zaibach military because of the uniform jacket that was around your waist. Most of our casualties were peasants from the energist quarries, there were a few from the military. I just didn't think you would remember things from it. I guess it's part of your physical response. You don't actually remember how something is done, but your body does," Sarah explained.  
  
John nodded in understanding. He hadn't really thought about it. He just went and made his bed. Then he had a sudden idea.  
  
"Do you think that maybe if I did something familiar physically that it would trigger something and I would remember?"  
  
"I'm not sure. You're going to have to ask my mom about that. She's the doctor around here. I just take care of some patients."  
  
Sarah could see he needed cheering up, but she didn't know how.  
  
John and Sarah sat across each other, eating their breakfast. There weren't very many people in the dining room since most were still sleeping. So they had a relatively quiet breakfast.  
  
From time to time they would glance at each other when not mechanically eating their food.  
  
"You know. This is an unnatural hour to be awake at," started John.  
  
"I wholeheartedly agree. We weren't meant to be up at five AM in the morning. Unfortunately, my mother doesn't agree."  
  
"When am I going to meet her?"  
  
"Actually after we're done eating breakfast."  
  
John looked down at his plate and realised that he had already finished everything. Sarah was already up and putting her plate away and tanking Aunt Rena. John followed Sarah's example and they were soon walking down the hall to meet Sarah's mother.  
  
John started to feel nervous. He didn't know why since he hardly knew anything about her.  
  
The young adults were now at the office. Sarah knocked, then opened the door. It was the usual scene: messy stacks of papers decorated the desk, a few heavy books left open, and her mother hidden behind it all.  
  
Even after living like this for years Sarah only had a vague notion as to what all those papers were for. Perhaps bills, or reports on patients? All she knew for sure was that her mother knew what it was and she didn't have to do it.  
  
At this point her mother noticed them standing in the doorway.  
  
"Come in," she said pleasantly. The two noticed her tired smile.  
  
She pushed back her chair as she stood up and came to John with an outstretched hand. "Nice to finally meet you awake."  
  
John awkwardly took her right hand with his left.  
  
"Uh, well, yes. Good morning," greeted John.  
  
Sarah's mother had a slight distant look. John's gentle touch reminded her of Sarah's father: Tall and gentle. She could tell he was amiable at one point. There was something sad about him though.  
  
The two young adults became a little worried since the older woman was staring into space. She had a soft expression. John could also see where Sarah got her smile.  
  
Suddenly she snapped out of her reverie and looked up.  
  
"I'm sorry if I worried you. I was just thinking. My name is Berin Ravenelious."  
  
"…?" said John.  
  
"People call me Doctor Raven to make it easy, or if they're my friends, Doc Berin," she explained.  
  
"Oh…"  
  
"Well, anyways, please take a seat. How are you feeling?"  
  
John shifted in the sturdy padded chair he had sat in and replied, "Fine."  
  
"Sarah told me about your bout of phantom pain," Berin said as she walked back to her seat behind her desk and settle back in. "Have you felt it again?"  
  
"No. It was just yesterday evening."  
  
"Have you felt discomfort of any kind since then?"  
  
"Well…"  
  
There was a long pause and Berin was about to encourage him to continue when John suddenly started speaking again.  
  
"…I may have had a nightmare. I woke up once and I was very hot and sweaty."  
  
During the long pause John had debated with himself of whether or not he should tell them of his loneliness. He had decided not to since it would be more embarrassing than telling them he had a nightmare.  
  
"Do you remember your nightmare?" Berin asked gently.  
  
"Nothing other than it was dark."  
  
Both Sarah and Berin felt something amiss. He was leaving something out. Perhaps he's nervous.  
  
"Might there be anything else?" Sarah asked softly.  
  
John became a little agitated, but then he felt reassurance from Sarah's light touch on his arm. Berin noticed the soft light enter his eyes from contact with her daughter.  
  
She gave him an understanding smile when she finally figured out that his real discomfort at the moment was loneliness.  
  
"I think I've interrogated you enough already," the doctor chuckled, "Let's work out your schedule."  
  
John was relieved, but noticed Doctor Raven's knowing look. Why did everyone but him and Sarah seem to know something? They all seemed to smile a little. It wasn't hostile, but he wanted to know what they knew.  
  
Sarah's mother came up with this schedule:  
  
6:45 AM Wake-up  
  
7:00 Breakfast  
  
8:00 Exercise  
  
9:00 Bathe  
  
9:30 Free time  
  
12:00 PM Lunch  
  
5:00 Dinner  
  
9:00 Bed time  
  
"Now. That's only the preliminary schedule. When you feel up to it you're going to go look for a job so you have your own spending money to do with as you like. I'm not going to charge you anything to stay here. You may stay as long as you wish. The war has taken its toll. Besides, I wouldn't have the heart to push a young man like you into the streets," Dr. Raven gave him a grin. "We can't let you become a bum."  
  
John gave a small chuckle and nodded in agreement.  
  
"Well, I guess that's…oh, wait! I almost forgot!"  
  
Sarah and John looked at Berin with some confusion as the elder woman rummaged through her desk drawer.  
  
"Here it is!" The doctor exclaimed holding up a brass key. She walked over to a locker beside a file cabinet in the corner behind her desk. She inserted the key into the lock and it opened with a 'click'. She opened the door and reached into the locker.  
  
Meanwhile John and Sarah were still sitting and were looking at Dr. Raven's back since her body was blocking their view of the locker. She finally faced them and was holding a hefty looking sword in its elaborately scrolled scabbard. She set it down on her desk and put a five-inch piece of metal down beside it.  
  
John stared at these objects. He picked up the piece of metal and studied it. It was apparent that this was a tip of a sword that had broken off.  
  
The scar on his chest throbbed slightly.  
  
He carefully set the piece of metal down back on the desk and observed the detailed scrolling on the scabbard. He finally picked up the heavy sword. As he held it he felt that he was accustomed to its weight, which was strange because he couldn't remember being in possession of this sword. But then again he couldn't remember anything.  
  
John was about to set the sword back down on the desk when an intense pain flashed through his head. Black spots and white sparks hindered his vision. He dropped the sword and its scabbard with a clatter and cradled his head with his hands.  
  
"John!" shouted Sarah, "What's wrong?"  
  
But John didn't hear this as he was preoccupied with a headache and fragmentary images that flashed quickly through his mind.  
  
A raven-haired boy with burnt sienna brown eyes. A green-eyed girl with a boyish hair cut. A pale and gaunt old man with long white hair and beard. A spurt of green fluid. A shroud of black feathers.  
  
As quickly as it came it left him. John was left trying to remember the images and guess what they had to do with him.  
  
"John?"  
  
He looked up at Sarah who had knelt down in front of him and drew in a shaky breath.  
  
"I… I'm alright," he said, failing to convince mother and daughter.  
  
"Back to bed you go! Rest up. I wish you weren't so pale, then I wouldn't have a hard time telling if you're sick or not. Oh, well," said Berin. She was beside him now and picked up the heavy sword. "This sword must've been yours since it came with you. Did you see anything?"  
  
"NO!" he shouted as he slammed his fist down on the desk before him. His face was contorted in frustration.  
  
Sarah carefully put a hand on his tense shoulder. His head was bowed and he was breathing heavily.  
  
"Sorry," he mumbled.  
  
Sarah lightly rubbed his back and stood up beside him.  
  
"It's okay, I know it must be frustrating for you," Berin softly said, "Now, off to bed you go."  
  
John nodded and was led out by Sarah.  
  
They quietly and slowly walked back to John's room. Sarah pulled back the covers on his bed and gave him a light shove toward it. She was about to leave his side to close the curtains when a large hand on her arm stopped her.  
  
Sarah looked down inquiringly at John. He felt that a reason was probably required and scrambled mentally to put his concerns into words.  
  
"I have been in the dark for so long. I was always in the dark. That is what I can remember. It feels good to see light again, to know I'm not trapped in the darkness again. The light lets me know this is reality, not some dream," John struggled for more words. He wasn't sure if Sarah understood.  
  
"I understand. Don't worry, this is all real."  
  
John looked up at Sarah who then stroked his cheek gently then slid her arms around him and gave him a hug. He hesitantly brought his left arm up and hugged her back.  
  
"C'mon! You have two arms! Use them," commanded Sarah lightheartedly.  
  
John reluctantly obeyed and now had both his arms around her in a loose embrace. They both let go a couple seconds later and Sarah pulled up the chair to sit by John as he lay down.  
  
He briefly wondered if Sarah needed to check on anyone else since there were other people in this house. He hoped she didn't.  
  
They simultaneously yawned.  
  
Sarah smiled and said, "Man, we must still be tired."  
  
John nodded in agreement, "Yes, but I'm already in bed. Perhaps you need a nap as well."  
  
"Nah. Besides, once I wake up in the morning, I can't fall back asleep."  
  
There was a long silence. John couldn't really go to sleep and Sarah really had nothing else to do.  
  
She started humming a tune. It was a little jaunty yet sort of melancholy.  
  
Through John's mind flashed a picture of a willowy woman with black hair that flowed all the way down to the floor. A tall man, also black haired with a mustache and growing a beard, stood beside her. Both dressed in rich clothing, both with loving, gentle faces.  
  
'Mother?' a foreign voice in his mind suggested.  
  
'Folken…'  
  
"Huh?" John said, as he was startled out of his dream/vision.  
  
"John? Are you okay? You blanked out on me again," a very concerned voice said.  
  
"Sarah? Sorry about that. Where did you learn that tune?"  
  
Sarah looked confused at his seemingly sudden change of subjects.  
  
"In Fanelia. Father took me with him a couple times on his business trips. That tune was a folk song from there. Why? Does it sound familiar?"  
  
"I'm not sure. I think it triggered a memory of sorts, but I can't remember what it was anymore," he said dolefully.  
  
"Come with me if you're not tired. My father's study is filled with books, maybe we can find a couple on Fanelia and it might spark something in your mind."  
  
John gave an affirmative nod and rose out of bed Sarah caught up his hand and led him out of his room to her deceased father's study in excitement. They came up to the door in a quiet corner of this house/hospital. Sarah released John's hand and opened the door slowly. The door did not creak, as it was not that many months that its owner has left.  
  
John noted the thin film of dust that coated the furniture and wooden floor. He hadn't asked Sarah about herself so he didn't know much about her family. All he knew was her mother and that she mentioned her father briefly saying "my father's study". Her father was either on another business trip or perhaps dead. He looked down at her as she scanned the room silently.  
  
"So, what does your father do?" he asked gently.  
  
"He is…was… a merchant and scholar," was her reply. She seemed to be fascinated by a spot near his feet.  
  
"What happened?" he again prodded gently.  
  
"The war happened!" Sarah's voice almost cracked and she tried to control herself.  
  
There was a silence. John was unsure of what to do and opted to rub her back as she had done for him earlier. He felt her shudder under his human hand.  
  
Sarah was struggling with herself to not let her tears break free of her eyes. The wound was still fresh and she had spent many nights silently crying, wetting her face and pillow with her tears. She hated to cry in front of others. It had been years since anyone had seen her cry.  
  
Her sorrow was too great, and a tear leaked past her defenses, followed by another and another. Soon she gave out quiet gaspy sobs.  
  
John was slightly surprised, but didn't let it show as he gathered the shuddering form of Sarah in his arms and sat them down on a leather couch by the door he had closed. He leaned back into the couch with Sarah and let her cry into his chest with his arms still wrapped around her body. He had arranged her so that she was sitting in his lap with her legs tucked under her. He rubbed her back in circles then her right upper arm, which was facing outwards, then simply hugged her with his left hand cradling her head to his chest and slowly rocked. He rested his right cheek on her head and continued rocking.  
  
With a shaky and muffled voice Sarah started talking.  
  
"M-my father was forced into the military since he was an able body. We knew something was going to happen since we've heard stories of men being collected for the military. Then, maybe three months ago or so, we heard that a mysterious force had destroyed Fanelia without any warning. Burned up. It was rumored that a few days later an Asturian outpost in the swamps met the same fate. Before we knew it, a war was going on and my father was out there somewhere serving the military involuntarily. They didn't let us know where he was sent. We couldn't send any letters. He promised he would write to us everyday, but we never did receive anything. He never broke his promises so the military probably didn't let him send letters," at this point she sounded bitter them drew in a shaky breath a to calm herself. "We were informed that a flying fortress had been damaged heavily and dropped into the ocean. They said he was on it. There were no survivors."  
  
John had stopped rocking when she had started her story and now was quietly contemplating it. The part about the fortress felt familiar. Sarah was wiping her face with her hands, trying to rub away any traces of her tears, but her eyes were still red and a little puffy. John pulled his head back and looked at her face.  
  
"Do you feel better?" he asked.  
  
Sarah nodded, her eyes downcast and said, "Thank you."  
  
They just sat there a moment until Sarah slid out of his lap to sit beside him, her face flushed with embarrassment. John caught on to her blush and realized that they had been in a slightly compromising position. Since Sarah was now looking at her hands that were resting in her lap she missed seeing John's cheeks redden. His metal arm was still on her with his hand resting on her hip. He didn't feel her through his arm, but then realizing that his arm was still there tried to extract it from behind her.  
  
Sarah became aware of this and sat up to let his arm free.  
  
"I'm sorry I started crying and made you listen to all that…" she started saying.  
  
"No. It's okay. Sometimes you just need to cry to feel better."  
  
'You're such a nice guy,' she thought.  
  
"Well," she started as she gently scrubbed her eyes and cheeks one last time, "let's start looking for those books."  
  
They got up off the couch. The room was dim and shadowed since they had not lit any lamps. Sarah went up to a tall thin lamp that was furthest away from the window and turned a small knob with a 'click' under a black funnel. A white-blue flame leapt out from the funnel shaped lamp and lit up that side of the room.  
  
"Father kept his things organized, unlike Mother. We should be able to find what we're looking for in that book case," she pointed at a simple looking, yellow-brown, tall bookcase.  
  
They searched the shelves to find that it seemed to be dedicated to books on foreign countries and in alphabetical order.  
  
"F, F, F…ah. Here it is," proclaimed Sarah. "Books on Fanelia's history, economics history, and genealogy on the royal family."  
  
"Do any of these books have pictures?"  
  
"We'll find out soon enough."  
  
She pulled out the three books and led him to her father's desk where she pulled up an extra chair. She blew the dust off the desk then set the books down. They sat down and she opened the history book. They looked at pictures and maps of Fanelia.  
  
John looked at these with interest as there were few pictures or illustrations on this book as it was mostly text. The few pictures with landscapes in them seemed familiar.  
  
The economic book only had graphs for illustrations, so they spent only a couple minutes flipping through that to make sure they didn't miss anything.  
  
The first picture in the Fanelian royal family genealogy book was a crude drawing of a man with black hair on his head and a beard. In captions it explained that he was believed to be the first king of Fanelia by rite of dragon slaying.  
  
In his mind a little black haired boy with a cherubic face was looking up at him saying it was mean to kill a dragon. John blinked and the scene was gone. He shook his head and continued looking through the book.  
  
Sarah gasped and John stared in shock. They were at the final picture in the book. It was of the most recent royal family of Fanelia. The picture was at least ten years old.  
  
The known facts about this family: King Goau de Fanel was deceased. The four or five year old in the picture was none other than Van Slanzar de Fanel who was the current king of Fanelia.  
  
Queen Varie was presumed dead, as she had never returned from her search of her eldest son who did not return from his quest to slay a dragon to become king. That prince was Folken Lacour de Fanel. He had a gentle smile in the family portrait. He was fifteen or sixteen in this portrait and he was almost identical to John, save his age.  
  
Author's Notes: I wanted the characters in my story to be three dimensional and I hope I've done an okay job, but I find myself doubting Sarah's actions or thoughts. She's supposed to be 24, but I wonder if the way I wrote her makes her sound too young, like her thoughts. It's hard to think what someone in their twenties would think since I'm only 17. Am I doing an okay job?  
  
I shudder at the whole sappy business of the crying thing. *Shudders* The first picture they see in the genealogy book was supposed to be the one from that book that Folken was reading to Van in a flashback.  
  
Anyways, please REVIEW!**


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Maybe it's just some coincidence," John finally said.

"Possibly, but it's too much of one. You look like you're somewhere in your twenties and so would this Prince Folken be if he were still alive. They never did find his body and frankly I think it's too much of a coincidence for two male albinos that look alike to be born around the same time."

"But a lost prince! Wouldn't me being born around the same time be more likely than for a prince to have survived all these years to have survived from the rite of dragon slaying and somehow end up here?" he said with an incredulous tone.

"But it would explain your arm. Maybe it was bitten off and someone saved you before you were finished off."

"Then if I am this prince, why am I here instead of being back in Fanelia?" he said, thinking he had her cornered.

"Perhaps you felt indebted to whoever saved you and got you that arm. Or, maybe you felt ashamed for failing the dragon slaying rite."

"Stop saying it's me. There are too many unanswered questions. I feel exhausted with everything that has happened and it's not even noon," he said while rubbing his temple with one hand then switching to rub around the artificial arm since the phantom pain was starting to act up.

"Here, let me," Sarah offered as she got out of her chair to stand behind John. He was about to protest, but didn't when her professional hands did their work.

John let out a content sigh and leaned back in his chair. His phantom pain was gone and the headache that had started forming had begun to dissipate as he let his body relax.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes. Thank you," he replied, twisting his neck to look at her.

"We should show my mother this book. Maybe we could go to Fanelia to see if anyone recognizes you."

"I still don't think it's me."

"You're in denial, besides you have amnesia," she pressed.

"Okay, okay, you have a point there. Let's go see your mother again."

They returned the economic history and Fanelian history books to their place on the bookshelf. Sarah turned off the lamp and they left the study with the Fanelian royalty's genealogy book in John's hands.

"Yes, there is a remarkable resemblance, isn't there?"

John, Sarah, and Berin were back in her office after John and Sarah waited for her to set a boy's broken arm.

They summarized what they had read and had shown the doctor the picture.

"If you want to go to Fanelia, you're going to have to wait until spring time since it's a long ways from here to there. We use horses for transportation in the country. Also it's dangerous for any Zaibach citizens to travel outside our country at this time with the war still fresh on everyone's minds. But it may not be as bad since this part of Zaibach really didn't do much in the war."

"I see. But that should give me plenty of time to get my strength back and perhaps hold a job to get supplies," John said thoughtfully.

"Well, you two just run along now and I'll keep the book here just in case I need it sometime," Berin said.

The two young adults nodded and left.

"Do you still feel awake?" inquired Sarah to John.

"Very awake."

"Want to go for a walk?"

At his nod she led him to the door and they stepped outside. Then she smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand.

"What's wrong?" John asked, curious as to the cause of her strange behavior.

"I just realized I never got your boots out for you!"

They looked down at his bare feet.

"I wonder why I never noticed," John said.

They went back inside and to his room where Sarah reached under John's bed and pulled out military issue black leather boots.

"Man. You know you have big feet, right?" Sarah said with and amused smile.

"Well, I haven't really had a chance to compare with anyone since so far I only met three women and two children…"

"I was just teasing! I wish you'd loosen up a little… Hey! Do I see you smiling? No! Don't try to hide it! I saw it! I wish you'd smile more often. It definitely suits you."

Since his back was to the window, Sarah wasn't sure if she saw his face darken or if it was just the shadows.

John sat down on his bed and pulled his boots on. They felt a bit tight, probably since his feet haven't been in boots for a month and had spread out a bit.

The two went back outside. It was a warm day and an occasional chirp could be heard in the distance. A few stray leaves lay on the ground, again reminding Sarah that fall was coming. They walked around the house and were now facing the stables.

"Would you mind seeing the horses?" Sarah asked. She hoped he would come along.

"I don't mind."

Sarah smiled brightly and led him to the stalls.

"These four are our horses. The black one is mine. His name is Hessen."

At the sound of Sarah's voice Hessen had popped his head into view from sifting through his bedding for any hay he may have missed. He was looking at them, ears forward to catch the sound of them walking up to him.

"Hi Hessey! How are you?"

She lifted her hand to his nose. He nuzzled it, searching for a treat, but then withdrew when he found none.

"Always thinking about food! You silly horse. I guess it's about time I gave you guys your breakfast."

His ears perked up and he bobbed his head. It wasn't the first time he had done that, but it made Sarah wonder if he knew exactly what she said.

"John? Would you mind helping me feed the horses? There's only eleven of them."

"No, I wouldn't mind at all."

"Great! Follow me."

She went to the storage room in between the aisles and opened the door. Inside there were bales of hay, bags of grains, can of unidentifiable liquids and various other food related things all stacked almost to the ceiling. Sarah pulled out a knife that was between the wall and a support beam and slid across the taught cords on one of the bales of hay. The cords snapped back and the bale seemed to expand a little. She grabbed half the bale and before John could offer his assistance slid it onto a waiting cart. She took a breath.

"Ouch. I hate doing that part. The hay scratches up your skin and I worry about splinters. Fortunately horses have tough mouths to eat that stuff."

She looked down at her arms where they were slightly reddened from the abrasive hay.

"Okay. Can you please give each horse three flakes of hay while I shovel out the grains?"

"Uh…what's a flake?" John asked, slightly embarrassed though he had no need to be.

"See this?" Sarah brought him to the half bale on the cart. "See how they look like a stack of paper?" She pulled at the end and it came off in an almost perfect square sheet. "They fall apart like slices, each about an inch thick. Pull three pieces off for each horse."

"Okay, thanks."

John pulled the cart behind him and did as he was told. Sarah watched him for the first horse and nodded when he looked back to see if he did it right. She went back to the bag of grain. She hefted a bag onto her shoulder then dropped it onto another cart. She stabbed it with the knife and tore through the end of the sack with it and poured out the contents. She tossed the sack into a corner full of empty sacks and grabbed a shovel.

She gave each horse a shovel full of the dark brown grain then checked their water buckets. Nine of them needed a refill. John was about to pull open a stall door so he could help refilling the buckets when Sarah shouted, "Wait!"

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her.

"Some of these horses are temperamental so you better just let me handle it. I know their quirks. Besides, I don't want you to get knocked into another coma."

He nodded his understanding and sat on a bench against the wall of the storage rooms while Sarah filled up the buckets at the stock tank. When she was done she rubbed her hands on her skirt on her thighs and looked at John again.

"All done. Do you want to go back to walking?" she asked.

"Yes. Let's go walking again," he replied.

They walked in companionable silence until they reached the edge of a forest that was on the immense property. Green light filtered through the canopy and cool shade was provided.

A vision of a smiling young boy tugged at his arm in a memory. John identified him as Prince Van. He blinked and saw only Sarah tugging on his arm to sit at the trunk of an enormous tree. He complied and leaned against the somewhat smooth bark that testified to years of providing a shaded seat to others. The two sat in silence, shoulder to arm, gazing through the leaves and branches at the clear blue sky with the occasional bird that flitted by.

After a while he realized that Sarah was leaning against his arm. He looked down at her and saw that she had fallen asleep.

'So much for not being able to fall back asleep,' John thought in amusement.

He carefully slid his arm around her and moved her a little so that her head rested comfortably on his chest. He sat with both of his arms around her and grew drowsy from the peaceful silence. His eyes closed and he snapped them open, trying to fight off sleep. He soon gave in thinking, 'Just a few minutes.'

John was roused awake by Sarah's movements. She apparently had slid out of his hold as she now had her upper body sprawled over his lap. John straightened up and realized how sore his back was from slouching over while he slept. He looked up at the sky and noted that the sun was up higher in the sky, coming closer to noon.

John looked down when he felt Sarah shifting.

Sarah was waking and realized she was on something warm. It was firm and smelled nice, but she felt a bit stiff. She sat up and stretched then yawned. Then finally opened her eyes only to be looking directly into deep, red eyes.

She leaped away a foot and fell back in surprise.

"Sarah? Are you alright?"

"Huh? John? I forgot that I was out here. You surprised me!"

John gave out a light chuckle as Sarah collected herself. He stood up brushed himself off and offered Sarah a hand. She accepted it and was pulled up onto her feet. He reached for her hair and she stood stalk-still. His hand came back to reveal a golden-brown leaf.

"Thanks, I wouldn't want to go back home looking like a wild woman," she said, taking the leaf from John. She examined the leaf for a few seconds then let it float to the ground. "I guess we should head back. It's probably almost lunch time," she continued.

John nodded and offered her his arm and She tentatively accepted it. As she lightly hooked her hand in the crook of his arm he looked down at her and gave a soft smile. Sarah gave him an answering blush and they walked side by side to her home.

The next day after breakfast Sarah brought John to the gym. Two men were sparring with swords to one side, another lifting weights, one stretching and one resting from an early morning workout. This room wasn't especially spacious, so there wasn't a lot of equipment and had only enough room for three sparring matches with just enough space to be confident in not having to worry about bumping into another sparring pair.

John eyed the sparring men appraisingly. He had a feeling that he had seen many before and perhaps even done so himself. It wouldn't be surprising considering the sword Berin showed him was probably his.

Sarah was also watching the sword fight. It was very entertaining to watch a match, observing how graceful and flowing some motions are and yet others so choppy as the sword is blocked then pulled back for another swing. The clanging of metal upon metal in a small space and close proximity was annoying at times, but that could be ignored if the two were skilled.

Finally the match came to an end when the young man with sandy blond, sweat drenched hair that was plastered to his forehead left an opening to his stomach when he raised his sword.

"If this was for real, not only would it have been unspeakably painful, it would also have been the slowest way to die," said the victor. He had black hair that hung loosely about the ears and a close cropped beard. He was clearly older than his sparring partner as his face was dark and weathered.

The young man before him had gone pale, his sword lowered to the ground and looked at his feet in shame.

The elder man had a fatherly smile and patted the boy on his shoulder.

"You did well today. You are recovering nicely. Now go get some water and rest before you pass out, you pushed yourself too much."

The blond looked up and smiled then went to do as he was told.

"Good morning Dravel," said Sarah cheerfully.

The black haired man looked up and smiled, walking towards them, "Good morning Sarah! To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you here?"

Dravel was now standing in front of John and Sarah. Now that he was up close John could observe Dravel much better. He had warm brown eyes and had a commanding presence by way of his posture. In height he probably came up to John's nose and was a bit stocky.

"Dravel, this is John. He recently came out from a coma and has amnesia. John, this is Dravel. Sword master and family friend."

"Nice to meet you," said Dravel with an outstretched hand. John's right hand automatically came out to grasp Dravel's gloved hand before he thought twice and almost froze with realization. Dravel took this all in stride and gave the metal arm a good shake and joked, "Nice grip" to John's loose hold. John recovered himself in time to give Dravel a brief squeeze before they let their arms drop to their sides.

"John's here to start getting some exercise since he's been out for a month," Sarah explained.

"Might you be interested in the sword?" Dravel asked John.

John gave a nod.

"Then go pick up a sword. Your body will show us if you carried one, memory loss or no memory loss."

Dravel pointed to a sword rack on the wall where several unfinished, blunted swords lay, clearly meant only for training. John studied them all as they were of different sizes, but the same generally as they were one-edged straight swords. He finally chose a moderately large one and gripped the leather bound hilt with his left hand. He tested the weight distribution in it and found it to be satisfactory. How he knew this he didn't know. It just felt right.

Dravel watched John study the swords and pick one out. He nodded in approval at his choice as had already mentally chosen that one for John.

John turned to face Dravel with his chosen sword pointed down. Suddenly John saw a flash and his sword automatically came up to block it. A clang was heard. Dravel wanted to test John's reflex so he had attacked swiftly. He gave a grunt of approval before he pulled back to strike once more. John blocked again. His body was facing Dravel sideways to provide less mass as a target. Their movements were almost blurred as their speed picked up. Sarah watched this in fascination.

John was already starting to perspire. A bead of sweat collected and trailed down his temple, jawline, then dripped off his chin. It made him want to wipe the sweat off his face with his arm. His muscles were starting to burn, his throat ravaged by his heavy breathing. One month of his life was accountable and that was while he was comatose and because of that he was not able to work out. He started to feel disoriented. Cold flashed through his head, which left behind a slight headache, and black flashes in his vision and dizziness. He dropped his sword and hunched over holding his head in his hands.

Dravel immediately stopped his attack and Sarah was at John's side in a second.

"John? Are you all right? Why don't you come sit down."

It wasn't as much of a request as it was a command. Sarah and Dravel held John in between them as they guided him to a bench that was against a wall and sat him down. Sarah felt his forehead and discovered that despite the recent sword exercise he was clammy rather than hot. His face was too pale, almost grey.

They had drawn the curiosity of the other occupants of the room by this time but paid them no mind.

John suddenly bolted up and seemed to be looking for something. He zeroed in on a door that was by a corner and clearly would lead outside since there were windows on that wall. He wobbled a bit as he ran to the door and wrenched it open to go outside.

Dravel and Sarah followed in concern and found John with one hand braced against the building and the other resting on his thigh as he heaved his breakfast into the grass. This continued until all that was left were dry retches. That finally ended and he was spitting out any leftover vomit in his mouth. His color seemed to have gotten slightly better, but he was clearly shaky. Sarah pulled out a handkerchief from her pants pocket and wiped John's mouth.

"Dravel? Will you please help me take him to his room?" asked Sarah.

Dravel answered, "Of course."

Each had one of John's arms draped across their shoulders and walked him up to his room.

Once in John's room Sarah let go of him and pulled back the covers on his bed. She then came back and helped Dravel sit John on the edge of his bed where Sarah pulled his drenched short sleeved shirt over his head. She then unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants off.

Dravel didn't say anything as he knew that Sarah was removing John's outer clothing so he would feel a little more comfortable since clothes, especially wet clothes, can feel hard to breathe in when sick.

"What happened to-" a yawn interrupted the sentence then finished with, "Mr. John?"

Sarah and Dravel looked up at the door to find Brittany and Lindsey in the doorway yawning and rubbing their sleepy eyes.

"He's feeling a little sick," answered Sarah, "Did we wake you up?"

The two nodded.

"I'm sorry about that. Why don't you two go back to bed?"

"Is Mr. John going to be alright?" Lindsey whispered.

"I'll be fine," answered John. They all looked at him. "I just over worked myself a bit," he continued and attempted a small smile.

The two girls scrutinized him then ran up to him to give him a hug and a peck on the cheek.

"Get better," said Brittany for both her and Lindsey and they left to get more sleep.

"How do you feel with all these ladies worrying about you?" joked Dravel.

One side of John's mouth quirked up, but made no comment.

"Well, I need to get back to the gym," Dravel said as he started walking towards the open door then stopped to toss over his shoulder, "By the way, you're a great swordsman and I think you're not even left handed."

With that said he closed the door behind him leaving John and Sarah alone.

Sarah filled a glass with water and handed it to John who thanked her then drank it slowly. Sarah watched silently as he finished drinking then attempted to refill the glass with weak hands. She took the pitcher and glass from him and poured water. She handed John the now refilled glass.

John was trying to wash out any residual sour taste of vomit by drinking water and it was slowly working.

"As healthy as it is drinking a lot of water I had a bad experience doing that when I was sick last time. Maybe you should wait a bit before you drink more," suggested Sarah.

"All right," John said rather than nod since he was afraid of making his head hurt again. He set the glass down on the nightstand then pulled the covers over him as he curled up on his left side.

Sarah smiled slightly at how John somehow made himself look smaller. She picked up the chair and moved it by his head and sat down. Sarah stroked John's hair, enjoying its smoothness while carrying out a comforting function.

John did find it soothing and soon fell asleep from a warm drowsiness rather than weakness caused by heavy physical activity.

A very tall and heavily muscled man stood before him. His scarred face and torso, which were bared, gave testimony to his life as a warrior.

'Who are you?' asked John. He immediately took note of his lighter voice. It was by no means high pitched, just slightly higher than his normal voice. John looked down at himself and noticed he wasn't as muscled as he was last. More of a leanness before full maturity. Another thing he noticed was that both of his hands were organic.

'Folken, you must charge at me as if you mean to kill me.'

John looked up at the towering man in confusion. 'This must be a dream,' he realized, then repeated his question, 'Who are you?'

The large man did not answer, instead he disappeared into the blackness surrounding them and John found himself falling into the eternal darkness.

"Balgus!" screamed John as his eyes snapped open and he sat up.

Sarah had been startled and had almost tipped her chair back when he sprang up in bed.

"What's wrong John? Did you have a nightmare? Who's Balgus?"

John looked up at Sarah who seemed to always have that concerned face around him.

'Of course she would,' he thought, 'I've been doing nothing but make her worry because of my condition.'

"I don't think it can be considered a nightmare and I don't know who Balgus is, unless he was the man in my dream," John answered.

"It must be someone from your past. This is very encouraging. You'll have your memory back in no time," Sarah said brightly.

"Yes, I suppose."

"C'mon, be happy! Don't get all depressed on me," Sarah told him earnestly.

John gave her a slight smile; "I'll try."

"Oh yes, are you feeling any better? You didn't sleep long before you jumped up."

"I don't really feel sick, just tired," he replied with hooded eyes.

"I have a feeling you're going to be sore since you didn't warm up and stretch before the sword fighting. I think you already cooled down, but you might want to try a small exercise right in here then stretch."

"You're the doctor," he joked.

"You do know that I'm not a full fledged doctor, right?"

"No, I didn't. But you might as will be."

"Thanks," she said, giving him a soft smile. She bent down and felt around under his bed and drew out a folded woven rug. She flapped it out flat on the floor by his bed and got up.

"Ten push-ups, twenty sit-ups."

John nodded at her and climbed out of bed and onto the rug. He put his hands shoulder width apart and straightened his body with his toes and pads holding him up as well.

The ten push-ups weren't hard to do, and if he were in shape he probably could have done one hundred, but he still was slightly flushed. He flipped onto his back and did the twenty sit-ups in no time.

"All right. Now hold your arm straight across your chest for eight seconds like this," instructed Sarah as she stretched out her left arm across her chest. John did as he was told.

A few minutes later they completed six different stretches and now were in the process of putting John back to bed.

Sarah smoothed a hand over his head before she left his room to set out for her mother's office.

When Sarah arrived at her mother's door, she noticed a note tacked onto it. It read:

_Sarah-_

_Mrs. Sanell went into labor. I might be gone all day. You know the drill._

_See you when I get back._

_ -Mother_

Mrs. Sanell was the baker's wife. A quiet, kind woman now having her first child. She was actually Sarah's age, twenty-four. It wasn't unusual to be married and with child at this time. Because of this Kancia often joked how the three of them (Kancia, Nanaii, and Sarah) would become spinsters at this rate.

Sarah went into her mother's office to find that royal genealogy book. She found it, already under a stack of papers on Berin's desk. She pulled it out and flipped to the last chapter in the thick tome.

Again she came to the family picture with that prince whom held an eerie resemblance to John. She shook her head to clear it then set out to look for names of the royal family's advisors and friends.

She didn't look for long when she came upon the name "Balgus." King Goau's comrade-at-arms, one of Fanelia's four generals, and advisor. He was also the two princes' teacher and one of the three great sword masters of Gaea.

"It seems impossible, but more and more evidence shows up pointing out that John is probably this Prince Folken," Sarah muttered to herself.

She spent an hour reading all there was to read about this particular Fanel family and still found it a little too sketchy for her tastes. She closed the book and set it in the original that she found it so it wouldn't disorganize her mother's messy desk. She then went out to feed the horses.

**Author's Notes: Do you know how hard it is to find the right place to stop so I could make it into a chapter? I had to read and skim a bit to find a suitable stopping place.**

Are you guys happy I finally updated? Please review.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 

Two weeks have passed since John woke up from his coma.  He has been getting stronger by working out a little every day, sword fighting every other day, and just being in Sarah's company.  They didn't bring up his possible heritage as a prince again, but just enjoyed being together.

It was clearly autumn now as all the leaves have transformed from mostly green to shades from a light gold to a deep crimson.

Small, sparrow-like birds stayed, filling the forests with their musical twitters while the larger birds have mostly departed in flocks of "V's" to warmer climates.

A clear blue dominated the sky, which was one of the reasons Brittany and Lindsey went outside.  The other being that Sarah, John, and a couple of hired hands had just finished raking leaves into big piles.

"I don't see why we need to rake leaves when more are going to replace it a few seconds later.  Why couldn't Mother let it be until spring?" Sarah complained as she gave her sore arms a rest.

Brittany and Lindsey chose that moment to jump into the leaves.

"WEEE!"

The adults present gave delighted smiles or chuckles at the spectacle the girls presented and their childishness.

"C'mon girls, we need to rake it back up.  Feel lucky that my mother didn't see you two when she told us to rake up the yard," said Sarah.

Brittany nodded vigorously while Lindsey, the shyer and quieter of the two, gave a small nod.

John gave them a smile as a brother would to his baby sibling.

The scene of the two girls covered in fall leaves transformed to that of a small black-haired boy with pieces of dead leaves and grass clinging to his clothes and hair.  The boy looked up at him with a big smile and cried out, "Aniue!"

John blinked and saw the two girls again.

"Are you okay Mr. John?" asked Brittany.

"I'm fine, but I don't know if you'll be!"

John grinned and swooped down onto Brittany and caught her up into the air.  She squealed in joy.

Sarah watched John play with the two girls.  While she was smiling softly for the girls who were getting such attention since they usually had to amuse themselves, the wheels in her mind was turning.  She was piecing together information, trying to figure out John's past.

John was about the same age as the supposedly dead Prince Folken would be if he had lived.  He was a good swordsman and had said the name "Balgus" who was the Princes Folken and Van's sword master.  Both John and Folken were albinos.  There was also the way John treated the girls, gentle and loving.  According to the book, Folken was a kind brother to Van.  But this part could be true with many people.

Then there was the question of how John, if he was really the missing Prince Folken, came to Zaibach.

Prince Folken was sent out on a dragon slaying rite to become king of Fanelia since the king had died from some illness.  When going out to slay a dragon you either come back alive or it can be assumed the dragon had killed you.  Folken had not returned so he was presumed dead.  No evidence of a body was found, but a search party discovered a copious amount of blood near a dragon's cave.

Sarah was momentarily blinded, and her eyes were drawn to the source, a reflection of the sunlight off of John's metal arm.  It connected straight to his shoulder, which suggested that his whole arm had been cut off.  Sarah doubted the arm was removable, because it was bolted on, so she wouldn't be able to see if the scar tissue where his arm used to be attached was cleanly cut, like a sword would do, or if it was jagged, as flesh being torn would leave evidence of.

The purple tattoos did not give any clues other than he wanted them.  But he had gold earrings, which her mother removed so it wouldn't catch on anything.  Only Zaibach sorcerers wore those ring-sized golden earrings.

'Which might explain his arm,' Sarah thought.

Sorcerers of Zaibach were responsible for most of the technological and medical advances.  They were feared though, for they had unbridled power and had many secrets.

Zaibach was the most technologically advanced country although Basram came a close second in comparison among what were considered backwater countries.  So it was most likely that John received his arm in Zaibach.

Another flash brought her out of her thoughts.

John was sitting down with the girls held to him.  Their burst of energy had been used up and they were now napping.

Sarah walked to them and sat down beside John.  She whispered so as not to wake the children, "It takes a lot to get them napping when they're full of energy like that.  They're still little kids after all."

Sarah looked up at John then to find him napping as well.

'I guess all that play was tiring for you as well,' Sarah thought with a smile.  She reached her hand up to his face and tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear.

He blinked awake, bleary eyed and brought his hand up to rub his eyes.

"Here John.  Hand me one of the girls so we can go put them to bed."

John nodded and handed Brittany to Sarah.  They both got up, each carrying a girl in their arms.

When they were placing the girls into their beds John heard Lindsey whisper in her sleep, "I love you Daddy."

The girls were tucked in and the adults left the room.  John was slightly disconcerted.

"Sarah?"

"Yes?"

They had stopped outside the closed door and were now facing each other.

"Where are their parents?"

Sarah had a saddened look to her face and replied, "They have passed on.  Both of their fathers were drafted and died on the field.  Lindsey's mother died giving birth to her and Brittany's mother was murdered when she tried to prevent the drafters from taking her husband."

John nodded gravely.

"Fortunately Brittany was at a friend's house when that happened.  It's a horrible situation as it is, it would be more so to have witnessed the murder of your own family."

John turned his head to look at the door with understanding.  He too had no family, at least none that he's aware of because of his current situation.

John pulled Sarah into an embrace.  Sarah was surprised, but didn't stop him.  She felt that he needed some support and put her arms around him silently.

They had come into physical contact plenty of times like when he got attacks of phantom pain from a shift in weather, or dizzy spells the first few days from over exertion, but hugs were a bit rare.  They released each other, both embarrassed but welcoming the other's company.

'This time is as good as any,' John thought nervously.

"Sarah?  Will you please come in my room with me?"

"Okay," answered Sarah, wondering what this was about.

He closed the door behind them when they stepped into his room, he then led her to his closet.

"Will you please turn around and close your eyes?" asked John.

"Why?" asked a confused Sarah.

"Just do it please.  I'll tell you when you can turn back and open your eyes."

"All right," said a dubious Sarah.

She turned around and closed her eyes, wondering what John was up to.  She heard him open the closet door and them some paper crinkling.

"You can turn around now."

Sarah turned back to find John on one knee with a bouquet of flowers held towards her.

"Will you go to the fall festival with me?"

Sarah blushed and beamed.  She nodded and said, "Yes."

She took the flowers from him as he stood up and they hugged again.

The world didn't quite feel real to Sarah at that moment.  She felt a soft glowing happiness surround her.  The source was John.

They disengaged from the hug and just stood in front of the other unsure of what the next step may be.  John believed he felt like a giddy teenager as he looked upon Sarah with perhaps something one level beyond fondness.  The diffident pair caught each other's eyes and held it tentatively.

"Thanks for the flowers, but you didn't have to," Sarah said when she broke eye contact to look at the bouquet.

"I wanted to."

"Thank you."

Their smiles never left their faces.  One smiling in relief that no one else had asked her out and the other smiling in happiness at having someone other than her mother and the girls to go to the festival with.

The fall festival was always held five days after harvesting was finished.  It celebrated the end of the crop gathering season and let many relax after all that hard work, since the bulk of the population were farmers in this area.  The festival spanned three days with many games, competitions, and booths where food and crafts can be bought.  At the end of each night a dance was held in an old barn that no one used to store anything during the fall, since it's been used for the dance as far back as anyone could remember.

This year's festival was planned to be in another two or three weeks.  The exact date can't be predicted until the last day of harvest.

"Well, you must be tired so I'll see you later," Sarah said before turning to go out the door.

"Yes, see you later," John said before Sarah closed his door softly behind her.

Raking leaves had been done during John's exercise time.  His earlier tiredness was erased as he gained his second wind and decided to take a shower.

John was showered, shaved, and dressed in fifteen minutes.  He decided to stop by the kitchen for a snack.  Working out always made him hungry.

He poked his head into the kitchen from the dining room to find Aunt Rena drying the dishes.

"Are you here for a snack?" Aunt Rena asked, her back turned to him as she placed the last plate in a cupboard.

"Yes," he replied with a reproachful smile.

Aunt Rena turned to face him and held out a sandwich on a plate.

John smiled and shook his head.  "How do you always know when I want a snack?"

"I just do," she said, smiling back.

John sat at the kitchen table and proceeded to eat.  Aunt Rena wiped her hands with the dishtowel and sat down across from him.

"So, what are you up to?"

John looked up from his half-finished sandwich with a quizzical look.  "What do you mean?"

"Young man," she said with a mock terse tone.

"I'm planning to look for a job."

"Ah.  I can help you with that.  I have a friend who's in need of a capable body.  Do you feel up to some physical labor?"

"I would think so."

"His name is Ravvel Peronel.  He lives two houses to the left.  Just ask Berin to lend you a horse and tell Ravvel that Aunt Rena sent you."

"Thank you Aunt Rena," he said, flashing a smile at her as he picked up his empty plate and started towards the sink.

"That's my job," she said, taking the plate from him before he could go any further.

"Thanks again."

John left and went to the doctor's office.  He knocked three times and was let in.

"Hello John.  What can I do for you?"

Sarah's mother looked up from her perpetual heap of paper and books.

"Good morning again.  I was wondering if you would lend me a horse."

"Sure, but may I ask why?"

"I'm going out to find some work."

"Oh, but won't you get lost?  You've never left the property before."

"I think I'll manage, I'm going to Mr. Peronel's."

"I see you've talked with Aunt Rena then.  You can ride Ralley, he's the chestnut with a white snippet on his nose.  I think he's two stalls away from Hessen."

"Thank you Dr. Raven," John said with gratitude.

"No problem."

John found Ralley with no problem and tacked him up.  John scratched the horse's neck through its shaggy throat hair and walked him out of his stall and the stable.  Outside he mounted Ralley from the right side and got him to walk out onto the driveway and onto the road.  He turned left and pressed Ralley into a gentle trot.  Ralley turned his head a little as if to say, "Are you kidding?"

John looked down at him and patted his neck.

"C'mon boy, besides, you probably don't get out much."

John wasn't sure, but he thought he heard the horse give a derisive snort.

After perhaps twenty minutes they reached the second house.  John slowed Ralley to a walk as they came down the gravel driveway.  He dismounted and found a tree to tie his horse to.

John walked to the front door of the one-story brown house and knocked.  There was no answer so he knocked again.  After he didn't receive an answer John decided to walk around the house to the barn.

"Hello?" John called out.

He saw a figure walk out from the large barn house.

"Who are you?" asked the man as he came nearer.

"I'm John, Aunt Rena sent me Mr. Peronel," he replied as they stood in front of each other.  He held out his left hand and the farmer shook it firmly.

"Nice grip," Mr. Peronel commented.

The old man came up to John's chest but was not in any way petite.  He was muscled and his bronzed skin attested to hard work outside.  He had close-cut silver hair with a receding hairline.  His wrinkled face was scrutinizing John carefully.

"Are you here for work?"

"Yes, sir," answered John.

The farmer finally noticed John's metal arm.

"What happened with that arm of yours?"

"I don't know, sir."

"How could you not know?"

"I'm a patient over at Dr. Raven's.  I have amnesia."

"I see, but I need someone that can work.  Does that arm work?  I'm not gonna coddle you just because of some disability," he said gruffly.

"As far as I know sir."

Mr. Peronel seemed unsure but his hand lifted, motioning John to follow him.  He obeyed him, a little unsure.

They walked into the barn and the older man stopped and pointed at a bale of hay.

"Pick that up and stack it on the others in the back."

The stack of hay bales were about one hundred feet away from the one bale on the ground.  John wasn't sure if he'd be able to carry it all the way since he doesn't know the full strength of his metal appendage.

John walked to the lone bale and slipped his hands under the ropes that kept the bale together.  He pulled it up and was amazed he could.  He hefted it onto his right shoulder where the metal would protect him some from the sharp hay that had already scratched his left forearm and now stung.  He made it to the back and tossed the bale on top of the others.

"You're hired," grumbled Mr. Peronel, although his eyes showed approval.  "Glad your muscles aren't for show."

"Thank you sir," John said with one corner of his mouth quirked upwards.

"It's only until I run out of work for you.  It'll mostly be harvesting hay and wheat, maybe two weeks of work, seven days a week, dawn 'til dusk.  Think you can handle that?"

"I believe so.  How much will I be paid?"

The gruff old man rubbed his chin in thought.  Although he was stern he was known as being a fair man.

"How about ten gheps a day?"

John's eyes rounded a little as that was a lot of money.

"Don't think I'm doing you a favor.  It's going to be hard work and you may even regret it."

"I don't think I will sir.  It's a deal," John said, extending his left hand.

Mr. Peronel squeezed John's hand, smiled and said, "You can start today."

**Author's Notes: A very BIG Thank You to ArtemisMoon, my editor.  If you guys like Rurouni Kenshin and humor, check out her stories.  I really like "The Morning After".**

Aniue-this is a Japanese word meaning "elder brother".  It is an oldish and respectful way to say it.  I know that they are not Japanese and I'm a bit of a hypocrite, but the reason why I used "aniue" is because it sounds nice and it doesn't have an equal in the English language.  Calling out "Older brother!" just doesn't work as well.

Well, it's been over a year since I first started this fic, I can't believe it took that long, but then again I haven't been working on this everyday.  I think I like fanfics that have a tad of humor, some romance, and some action.  So in my own opinion on my fic, this is boring at this time.  Hopefully that will soon change.  

As ShadowShapeShifter had asked in a review for the last chapter "Are you going to have his wings come out any time soon?"  The next chapter will have Folken's wings out.  Don't you just love the Fanel brothers' wings?  They're sooo fluffy and *pretty*!  *Ditzy smile*  :-P

Aria

Yep! I'm really happy you updated! Infact I'm extatic(not sure if its spelt right). Thanks for the e-mail otherwise I wouldn't have known!! This is really good. I'm just wondering at the minute how Van will react, would he be glad that his brother is alive? I mean he acted really sad in the show that his brother had been killed. But then again that's similar to any family, the siblings are allowed to say and do what ever they want to each other, but no one else is allowed to do it. Oh well, guess I'll just have to wait and see....^_^

Yes, you will have to wait and see, in fact I'm not even sure how it will turn out.  I'm not thinking that far yet.  That and Folken somehow locked up Van in the back of my mind to help me concentrate on him Sarah.  *Turns away from the computer to talk to a shadowy figure that's looming over her* Hey!  It's not _my fault that I'm not writing fast!  Okay, so maybe it is… But you can't make me give up reading fanfics!  *Turns back to computer*  I can't come up with viable arguments, which may explain why I haven't joined the debate team when I'm so interested in debating.  *Sigh*  I also apologize for not being that funny even when I try to be in answering questions in these author's notes.  Humor is a good thing, but not when I attempt it, at least to me I'm not funny._

            Well, as always, please review!  If you have any questions go ahead and ask and I'll try to answer them.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

As the sun was sinking into the horizon, Ralley plodded home with John slumped in the saddle, too tired and sore to ask for a trot.  In the stable, energist-powered lamps were on, the only light left in the cool of night outside.  John un-tacked Ralley, checked his water and trudged into the house.

John went to the kitchen and found it empty.  He sighed, turning to leave when something caught his eye.  He looked at the counter and found a folded paper with his name written neatly in the center.  He picked it up and unfolded it.

_When you didn't come to lunch and dinner you worried the girls and I.  Ravvel didn't put you right to work, did he?  You must be starved so I left your dinner in the stove.  Be sure to turn it off after you take your dinner out.  Don't worry about cleaning up._

_                                                                                                -Aunt Rena_

John smiled in gratitude and knew he needed to thank her in the morning.  He shuffled over to the stove and pulled the kitchen towel off the stove's handle and opened it.  With the towel carefully wrapped around his flesh hand he reached into the stove with both hands and pulled out a tray.  On it were baked vegetables and some sort of roasted beast.  He set it down on the kitchen table and went back to turn off the stove.

After some searching through a few drawers and cupboards he was armed with a knife, fork, and a glass he filled with water.  He sat down and started eating his heated dinner.  He realized that this was the first time he ate by himself.  Before, at least Lindsey and Brittany had always accompanied him if Sarah happened to be helping her mother.  He found he did not like being alone while eating, but this too felt familiar.

Despite Aunt Rena's note, John washed and dried his plate, utensils, and glass and put them back in their places.  He turned off the kitchen light and walked to his room.  He was very tempted to just crawl into bed, but went against it because he needed a shower.  He pulled out his sleepwear and took it with him to the bathroom.  He locked the door to the bathroom and placed his sleepwear where it would stay dry them stripped himself of his sticky and dusty clothing.  He let them drop to the floor in a pile and turned on the shower.  He briefly closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the tiled wall under the showerhead.  He cleaned himself with soap and shampoo and after he rinsed himself off he looked longingly at the tub, but dried off and dressed in his nightclothes.  His bare feet padded down the hall back to his room.  He enjoyed feeling the cool wood on the soles of his feet that had been released from the hot, confining boots.

John entered his darkened room, dropped his things on the floor and flopped onto his bed.  He was too tired to pull the blankets over him and soon fell asleep.

Sometime later, he wasn't sure when because he was barely half awake, he felt the blankets being tugged out from under him and then brought back up to cover him.  A gentle hand brushed back his hair away from his face.  His partial awareness was fading at the soothing strokes.  His groggy mind barely registered soft lips press against his forehead.  With one last stroke to his head someone padded away and a soft click was heard.

The next morning John woke up with a moan as the pre-morning light hit his face.  He had been too tired to remember to close the curtains the night before.  He pulled the sheets over his head and huddled on his side trying to go back to sleep.  With a sigh he threw the covers back and sleepily got out of bed.  He knew he had work to do, which seemed to be the only reason for him to wake up this early.

He got dressed, stopped by the bathroom, then drug his feet to the dining room.

There were few early risers in the dining room.  John spotted Sarah who looked ready to fall face first into her cereal.  He walked over and as he sat down in a seat across from her he said, "Good morning."

"G' mornin'," she grumbled with half closed eyes as she mechanically shoved spoons of soggy cereal into her mouth and swallowed.

The corners of his lips quirked up.  He leaned over and reached for a box of cereal and a bowl then reached for the pitcher of milk, all of which were on a nearby table.

Aunt Rena came sometimes to cook breakfast.  She was primarily there for preparing lunch and dinner.  Which was why John and Sarah were somewhat surprised when they saw the elderly woman walk into the dining room.

"Oh my poor child!  I can't believe Ravvel didn't let you come back for a lunch break!  I hope he was only testing your stamina and that it won't happen again," she said to John.

"Good morning," both Sarah and John said.

"Why are you here this morning?" asked Sarah, finally finished with her cereal.

"I came here to make John a sack lunch since I'm not sure if Ravvel will let him come home for lunch."

"You didn't need to bother yourself with that," John said, a little concerned for the old woman and flattered that she thought of him with such motherly attention.

"I wouldn't be doing my job if I let you starve."

With that she left to go to the kitchen to prepare his lunch.  When she came back she said, "You didn't have to clean up, but thank you.  Here you are."

Aunt Rena set a small bag down beside him on the table.

"Thank you very much."

John really did appreciate Aunt Rena and felt rather pampered.

"Well, I need to get going, Mr. Peronel is expecting me soon."

"Don't overwork yourself," Sarah said.

"Don't worry about me.  I hope to see you this evening, but I'll have to see when the sun sets.  Luckily the days are getting shorter since Mr. Peronel has me from when the sun rises to when it sets."

The two weeks passed quickly, the changing days hardly noticed by John as a routine was set.  Every night he came home weary, and despite the days cooling down he and four others working for Mr. Peronel sweated under the sun in the fields.

At night, half-asleep, John would feel a gentle hand soothe him.  Sometimes, if the presence felt daring, soft lips would touch his forehead or cheek.

After the first week John realized an unmentioned advantage to all the tiring physical labor, it developed his muscles to their former condition, possibly more than before.

John and the other four hands at Mr. Peronel's were given a day off before the last week of work.  This allowed John to sleep in until around ten in the morning when two girls hopped onto his bed and woke him up.

"You didn't go to work today?" asked a happy Brittany.

"No," answered John groggily.

Small arms slid around his neck.  John looked down to see it was Lindsey as he rapidly got rid of his sleepiness and rubbed his eyes.

"I'm glad you're here.  We don't get to see you anymore," Lindsey said softly, looking up at him with wide, rainy grey eyes.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around you girls this past week," he gathered the girls into his lap as he sat up against the headboard of his bed.  "But I have one more week and then I'll be here for a bit before I go out for some more work."

"Why can't you just stay home and play with us?" asked a stubborn Brittany, who had crossed her arms in front of her chest and pouted.

John smiled at her behaviour and hugged the girls to him.

"Because adults need to work."

"Why?" persisted Brittany.

"So they can take care of themselves and others."

"Oh."

Brittany looked down at her hands, which were loosely fisted, resting on her lap.  John gently squeezed the girls to his chest and kissed each one lightly on her forehead.

"Tell you what," he started after he loosened his hold on them once more, "After I get dressed I'll come play with both of you."

"Really?"

"Really.  And after this week I'll have some more free time, that means you'll be able to have me all to yourselves."

The children's expressions were delightful and John knew this was all right, playing with them was preferable to the backbreaking work he had been doing.

"What about Ms. Sarah?  Will she play with us too?"  This question came from the quiet Lindsey whose light eyes were hopeful.

"Yes I will," an unexpected voice answered.

"Ms. Sarah!" exclaimed the girls as they scrambled out of John's lap to hug Sarah as she walked into the room.

"Good morning sleepyheads, or rather hyper kids," she said as she bent down and hugged them, then stood up straight.

"How are you feeling John?"

"Tired and sore," he answered with a sigh.

Sarah stooped down, bending her legs, so she would be at eye level with the girls and said, "Why don't you girls run along?  We'll be out in a few minutes."

Brittany and Lindsey nodded solemnly and walked out of the room with Lindsey reaching up to close the door behind them.  Sarah had been watching them, but then she turned to look at John and walked to him.

"John?  May I take a look at you?  I haven't seen you all week so I don't know much about your physical condition."

"Go ahead," John answered as he slid his legs over the side of the bed so he was sitting, facing Sarah.

Sarah drew up a chair, sat, then held up John's organic arm and examined it carefully.  Traces of very thin red lines were scattered across the inner side of his lower arm.  She also spotted some splinters.

"Doesn't this sting?"

"Yes, a bit, but I have gotten used to it."

John's arm fractionally pulled away when one of Sarah's fingers grazed a scratch.  One disbelieving eyebrow arched up at John.  She spread out his hand and scrutinized his palm, seeing that calluses had developed and hardened, yellow pads were visible.  She put his hand down and reached for the bottom of his shirt and started pulling up.

"Sarah?"

She paused and looked up.  "Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

"Taking your shirt off," she deadpanned.

This was very obvious to John and the matter of fact way that she said it was a little amusing since he knew that she knew what he meant.

"Why?" he asked, slightly exasperated.

"To give you a massage.  Didn't you say you were feeling sore?"

She finally pulled his shirt over his head and put down his arms.

"No, that's okay.  I was just saying-" he interrupted himself with a groan when Sarah rubbed a sore spot on his shoulder.

"No more arguing.  Why don't you lay on your stomach so I can get to your back?  I bet lugging all that hay did a number on it."

He slowly complied.  He hung his metal arm off the edge of the bed while the other lay under the pillow his head rested on.  Sarah began kneading his back, interested in the feeling of soft skin over hard muscles and bones.  She started to massage around his shoulder blades when she felt a knot of muscles right between his spine and shoulder blade bump her hand.  Sarah furrowed her eyebrows as she felt a second one by his other shoulder blade.

'Are these some strange growths?  They're not cysts.  Too solid to be that,' diagnosed Sarah in her thoughts.

John noticed her pause and felt the tightening of muscles in his back as Sarah's fingers gently probed the two lumps on his back.  Suddenly the area between his shoulder blades spasmed.  He heard a startled gasp come from Sarah and felt very light and fuzzy things land on his back.

He opened his eyes and sat up.  Ash gray feathers floated down and he saw Sarah standing stalk still, staring at something beyond his shoulders.  He caught something at the periphery of his vision and turned his head.  What he saw utterly shocked him.

Two gray feathered wings protruded from his back.

Sarah stared wide-eyed at John in awed shock.  Never in her dreams had she thought that angels or Draconians existed.

'A dream!  This must be a dream!' she realized, but when she felt her heart thumping within her chest and her clenched hands she knew that this was no dream.

Silence reigned the room until John's wings fluttered then stilled.

"I-I'm a freak…" John stuttered.

Sarah snapped out of her shock and carefully walked the three steps back to John.  She slowly reached a hand out to an enormous wing and touched it.  The wing twitched at contact then stilled.  She traced the outer edge of the wing near the base and John almost shuddered in pleasure.  She looked down to warm red eyes that were waiting for her judgement.

"Oh John!" she cried out as she bent down quickly to hug him.

He was surprised at her actions.  He thought she would turn away in disgust, maybe even scream, but not embrace him in affection.

"I don't know what you are, but don't ever call yourself a freak.  We'll figure something out.  Your wings are lovely, really, they are…" she mumbled into his ear as she hugged him fiercely.

John was still a bit dazed but managed to snake his arms around her waist and his soft gray wings folded gently around them.  Sarah almost jumped when she felt John's wings enclose them.  Her words were sincere, but this made her wonder if there were anymore startling secrets they had yet to discover.

Sarah pulled back a bit and stroked a wing, which stretched out in response to her gentle caresses.

"You can't go out of this room with wings.  Do you think you can…retract them?"

"I'll try."

John hadn't any idea as to how he could do that.  These wings had just popped out without any thought it seemed.

'Perhaps…perhaps if I think them away,' he thought hopeful and doubtfully.

He concentrated on the thought of retracting his wings and surprised himself when it seemed to be working.  The muscles in his back shifted around as they pulled in the wings.  He stretched his back, wings now gone, and noted the strange sensation that was dispersing.

Sarah reached out with a hand and picked up a light gray feather from John's bed and studied it.  It was as long as two hand lengths and very tangible.

"If it weren't for all these feathers I would have thought I was dreaming just now," she commented, looking up from the feather to meet John's eyes.  A mischievous twinkle entered her eyes as a thought occurred to her.  She voiced it for John's benefit.

"I never thought of angels molting."

A small, nervous smile stole across his lips.  He stood up and silently gathered the feathers that were littered on and around his bed.  Sarah stooped down and helped.

Soon a neat, fluffy pile of feathers about two feet in diameter sat in the middle of the floor.

"What are we going to do with all these feathers?" asked Sarah.

"Let the girls have them if they want, otherwise we should throw them out."

"Umm…"

"Yes?" he said as he looked up to her and found that her head was bowed, trying to hide her blushing face.

"May I…ah…may I keep one of your feathers?" came the meek request.

Slightly stunned and puzzled he wondered why she would want something that would only remind her of what an aberration of nature he was.  He finally asked, "Why?"

"Just for something to remember you by."

"Ah…yes, go ahead," John said, a little awkwardly.

'Something to remember me by,' he thought. 'I did say I want to travel around spring.  Most likely never to return, since there's no reason to.  Sarah…'

He mentally shook himself and saw that Sarah had chosen a feather of similar size to what she had been holding earlier, she was carefully tucking it away in her apron.

They were both startled when Brittany's impatient voice broke through the silence.

"Can you grown-ups hurry up?  Me an' Lindsey's been waiting forever!"

Sarah smiled at the child's tone and walked to the door.

"Get dressed, we'll be waiting for you in the dining room," Sarah tossed over her shoulder as she exited John's room.

**Author's Notes:  Thanks again ArtemisMoon for editing!!!**

A little note about my take on the energist: I think of energists as a battery, remember when Van defeated (in my opinion he defeated them) Nariya and Eriya in Atlantis?  Hitomi and Van saw Varie (Van's mother) who handed him a green energist and he put it in Escaflowne's heart/jewel.

Spelling: I just noticed that I spelled a word the English way (meaning England English).  I'm so used to reading them either way that I spelled "behavior" "behaviour".   I'm not going to bother changing it for now because it's still correct in my mind, just not American correct.  Yes, I'm an American if you didn't know.

I have inconsistencies in the length of my chapters because I write a bit first then I figure out how to chapter them.  It's so hard to do that because I'll be reading a little looking for a good place to put a chapter break and then I find that maybe I should let it go on for more, or something like that.  That is why some chapters may seem rather short in comparison to other chapters.

grammar

just to let you know, in the begining of this chapter youthe tense format you used sounded awkward.   
You refer to things that are current situations saying:

I mainly suggest finding a tense and sticking to it. If you're going to write present tense do it, if you're going to write past tense do it. Mixxing works but must be done with care.  
Just a note from your friendly fellow author and reader. You can disregard this if you like or learn from it, thank you very much either way.

Thank you for taking the time to write in the corrections.  It's just that when I write I just write.  Because of this I don't think carefully.  There's also the fact that I don't seem to keep track of what tense I'm in.  I very much like learning from my mistakes and have made the corrections on my copy of the story.  I have been informed of the same problem from someone who reviewed this story on mediaminer.org for my prologue.  At the moment I will leave it as it is.  I'll worry about changing the tenses on the version on ff.net when I'm finished with this story.  

To you and anybody who's reading this, if you spot a mistake I'd be happy to know what it is and will make any needed corrections sometime in the future.

Thanks again.

To Otaku Pitcher- Yeah, I love seeing familiar titles too.  A lot of the ones I read either finish up or take a long while to update, at least in my opinion. ^_^

Thanks to Kartos, louie, M*Y*S*T*-*L*A*D*Y, ShadowShapeShifter, Kay Noel, and Teal Huskie for leaving reviews!

I hope everyone didn't mind how Folken's wings came out.

-LSR_7


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

While John ate his breakfast, since all the others had eaten earlier, he made pleasant conversation with Aunt Rena and Sarah. Although he was attentive, the two women found him brooding at times. Sarah correctly assumed that John thought on the recent event of discovering wings, but that was not the only thing he was thinking about.

"John?" asked Sarah.

"Hm?"

"Didn't you say that Mr. Peronel wanted to work you everyday?"

"He did, didn't he?"

"That's Ravvel for you. He was probably trying to see if you'd scare off," commented Aunt Rena.

He set his fork onto his empty plate with a light clink and finished his glass of water. As soon as he set his empty glass down Lindsey and Brittany jumped up from their corner where they had been coloring and sped to the adults to grab Sarah and John's hands, pulling them away from Aunt Rena to the door.

Sarah gave out a light laugh at the children's determination. John couldn't help but smile.

The four walked, or ran in the case of the girls as they discovered an especially "pretty" colored leaf or a few berries still clinging onto the bushes, after they had donned thick knitted sweaters or coats to fight the chill fall air. They crunched through leaves that had fallen off of the trees that lined the small pastures a short distance away from the stable. The grass was cropped fairly short within the fenced in pasture due to the various horses that had been turned out throughout the non-winter seasons.

Most of the migratory birds were gone, leaving behind the dark colored scavengers and various multicolored miniature avians. They sighted a small-feathered puffball on a branch. Perhaps it was trying to warm itself up. Brittany stepped on a stick, making it snap. The sound startled the bird, whom then hopped off the branch and took flight.

Lindsey watched in awe at how easily it flitted away after a small dive before it took to the sky. How they wanted to join it in its play when the little bird found another of its kind and twirled around each other in a sort of airborne duet.

As John looked up at the two birds, an image inserted itself. One of a beautiful woman with long black hair he had seen earlier in one of these visions/flashbacks, with large white wings joined to her back as she held a shirtless boy who had his own small wings. Both were in the air, the young boy with an apologetic look and the mother (they looked too similar not to be related) with a woeful expression.

John slid a hand down his face and simply saw an empty sky.

"Is there something wrong?" asked Sarah.

John looked down across his shoulder to look at the young woman.

"No, not at all."

"Are you sure?" she asked as worried eyes searched his.

"I'm fine," he answered neutrally and continued to walk on ahead.

Sarah stared at his rigid body a moment before walking after him and the girls that were slightly beyond him.

The rest of the week, working out in Mr. Peronel's fields with the other 4 hired hands and Mr. Peronel himself, scenes and images drifted into his head.

'Memories?' he questioned himself.

Gold and silver cat-girl twins.

'Naria and Eria, new names for a new life,' he absent mindedly thought. He paused in his labor; eyebrows pushed together, a questioning face.

"Where did that come from?" he whispered to himself. He went back to work, pushing the thought back to ponder it another time.

Another cat-girl, except this one had fluffy pink hair and was barely a toddler was being teased by a young boy.

'Van.'

Similar scenes played in his mind when monotonous work allowed it. Both innocent and horrific plaguing his mind in small intervals.

Even in sleep the visions did not cease. Unfamiliar and familiar, like that of the boy "Van", the regal adults who call him "Folken", and cat-girls, among others, snuck into the crevasses of his mind. This "Van" came as a newborn up to a five- or six-year-old and then a teenager. At least a decade gap in "Van's" growth seemed to be missing. He appeared to be important to John somehow. Another teenager soon dominated a space in John's mind. This one had sleek, silver hair and cold red eyes that called for blood. There was no sweetness to him that John associated with "Van".

A bloodthirsty cackle as heard through a comm-system caused a mental shudder and the involuntary utterance in thought.

'Dilandau.'

The almost constant barrage of these memories, as John had already decided them to be, caused him to be more tired than when he went to bed.

"Y'are'll right, Johnny?"

John turned his head away from the grain he was threshing off with a flail. He put on a tired smile and answered to the young man of twenty, "I'm fine Yidirik, just tired. I haven't been receiving a good night's rest for a few days is all."

"Sleep is essential… next to a good cup of gharva!" exclaimed the red-haired Yidirik with a guffaw, all the while working the flail efficiently with practiced hands.

A slightly chagrined smile spread on John's features at the memory of a week and a half ago of the potent brew. The normally subdued John had started shaking almost uncontrollably in energy, most definitely awake after consuming half a cup of the unsavory black-green liquid. He had felt jumpy for at least six hours until it finally wore off. He had no wish of looking foolish again.

"'Ey! Don't be embarrassed about that, I had the same experience as you did with my first cup. You just have to get used to it is all."

"How old were you?" asked John.

"Ten," grinned the young man.

John shook his head with a smile and went back to concentrating on his work.

It neared the end of the day and the piles of sheaves of grain yet to be threshed shrunk until there was one shock worth left.

"It's the last shock, boys," Mr. Peronel confirmed. After that announcement he took a seat and crossed his arms over his chest.

The men seemed quite eager and re-energized as they worked on the last bunch. John watched the other four men curiously as he worked, because they seemed to be searching for something as they quickly worked through the sheaves of grain.

"I'll get it this year, I have a feeling," said Rek, a cheerful dark-haired man whose face could have been mistaken for that of a boy if not for his five o'clock shadow.

"You said the same thing last year and you didn't get it," said the serious Fernot, Rek's elder brother.

"But I'm really sure about this time. Besides, you got it last year and then got married in the spring. It _has_ to run in the family!" he said excitedly.

John was very curious now and couldn't stop himself from asking as he grabbed another sheaf.

"What are you talking about? And what does it have to do with marriage?"

All the other four men looked up at John with slightly incredulous looks.

Yidirik smacked his forehead then said, "I should have figured you wouldn't know the tradition, this is your first year here. Well, every year at the end of the harvesting season here at the Peronel's, in the last shock one of the sheaves has a red dyed stick in it. The one who finds it-"

Yidirik was interrupted by a solid thunk as someone's flail hit something. Everyone stopped and looked around. John looked down at the flail and bundle he was holding and saw something peeking out of the goldenish colored stalks of grain. He parted it and found a red stick.

Rek gave out a disappointed groan but his good nature won out and he said that he'd get it for sure next year.

Yidirik and the other men gave John a pat on the back and grinned mischievously.

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"You're going to get married this coming spring. So, who is she?" Yidirik asked in a half joking manner as the others chuckled.

"What?!"

"Didn't think you'd get hitched that fast did ya?" grinned Mr. Peronel as he gave a couple gruff pats to John's shoulder.

"Whoever finds the red stick will get married by the coming spring," Yidirik finished after the long interruption as the men went back to work and finished up.

"Oh," said John as comprehension overcame his features.

"So, who's the girl?" asked Rek.

John was slightly flustered.

"I'm not seeing anyone…"

"Oh come on! There has to be someone! I think yer blushing!"

John cleared his throat and seemed highly interested in his hands.

The men were now walking to a waterspout to wash up and get a drink.

"Well?" asked Rek expectantly.

"I guess there's someone…" John finally conceded.

"Who?"

"…Sarah…"

Yidirik nudged John in the ribs with a sly smile. "Lucky dog, you live under the same roof as her, if I'm not mistaken."

If it were not for his already reddened face, due to his work outside, Yidirik might have noticed a slight coloring of John's cheeks.

John searched through his mostly organized mind and found something that would not only change the subject but also give him much needed information.

"Does anyone know of where I can find work for the winter?"

"Well," Yidirik started as the men walked to Mr. Peronel's house to receive their pay, "there really isn't much I can think of that is in the way of physical labor. Do you have any other skills?"

"I really don't know," John said glumly.

They were met by Mr. Peronel who handed them each a small sack made of a light-brown, fibrous material containing their pay. No one checked the contents of their sacks as that would offend Mr. Peronel and since all trusted him. He was, after all, a very honest man. They thanked him and retrieved their horses from the small corral and went their separate ways home.

**Author's Notes: I'm sorry for this pitifully short chapter, but I haven't written much since school started up and I got a bit of writer's block.  I'm also sorry that it has been over a month since my last post and that is also to be blamed on school.  I *love* blaming stuff on school!  My favorite classes are Pottery, Creative Writing, and Japanese in that order I think.  The other three I don't really care for.**

Teal Huskie- Yeah, I know what you mean.  I just love being mentioned in the author's notes!  :-D

Harmony- This is *definitely* out after your camping trip.  The wings aren't black anymore, but notice that they are grayish.

Aria- Thanks for reviewing, I've had my own e-mail troubles when e-mailing a fellow author.

ShadowShapeShifter- You're welcome about the e-mail.  I just love the Fanel's wings and perhaps they'll pop up later in the story. *wink*  I love long chapters too, but it's hard for me to choose a stopping point for each chapter and that I haven't written much lately.

elarayel- Thanks for telling me that this is a decent Folken story.  I have my doubts at times since I think some areas are too corny or whatnot once in a while.

Otaku Pitcher- Thanks a lot for searching my story out!  I hate it when I haven't been on ff.net for a while and all these stories pile up and the stories I've read before turns blue (the links turn purple after they've been clicked but change back after a couple weeks or so of not clicking them).  It's hard to find stories looking since some of the titles sound the same, but the stories are different. 

Myst Lady- Technically speaking English wasn't my first language either.  Japanese was my first language but now English is my primary language.  I can understand Japanese pretty well, but I can't speak it totally fluently anymore.  We'll see if that can change.

ArtemisMoon- Thanks for reviewing!  But since you're my editor you don't need to go on a guilt trip for not reviewing… or do you?  LOL!  :-P  The perks of being my editor is that you get to read more of my story before it's released to everyone else.

Kae Noel-  Hehe!  Soft, fluffy wings!  *pets Folken's and Van's wings*


	12. Chapter 11

****

Chapter 11

"You're home early. Did you finally finish up at Mr. Peronel's?" asked a pleasantly surprised Sarah.

"Yes."

"So, who found the red stick this year?"

That question caught John off guard and he made a funny little strangled cough. He had forgotten after he had changed the subject to his job hunt when he was talking with Yidirik.

"John? Was it you?" Sarah asked as an unidentifiable twinkle of mirth entered her eyes.

"Yes," he finally choked out.

"Okay, okay! I can clearly see you're under unwanted questioning. Why don't you get changed and come back down for dinner," she said with a smile. She gave John a friendly nudge towards the general direction to the stairs and made a shooing motion with her hands.

John obliged her and was yet again flustered. Once in his room he placed the sack of money and the red stick that was partially hidden by the sack in the back corner of his closet. He pulled out a light colored short-sleeved shirt and tan colored pants and quickly changed his clothing.

What met him in the dining room were two brightly smiling five-year-olds, a gently smiling Sarah and a slightly unhappy looking Aunt Rena who didn't notice John walk in since she was giving the stove in her kitchen an annoyed look.

"Is something wrong?" asked John as he seated himself in front of a tray of food Sarah motioned him to.

"Oh nothing much, it's just that the stove isn't working again. I just hope whatever it is that the energist hasn't been drained. They're supposed to last for a couple years. I hope you don't mind cold soup, I had to make my grandmother's cold soup recipe," Aunt Rena said.

"I'm sure it tastes just as good as anything you cook," said John as he lifted a spoonful of the orange-red soup to his lips. As he had thought the soup did taste wonderful, but it was a bit strange since he was used to hot soup.

"Just as I thought," voiced John, "this is excellent."

"Thank you," said Aunt Rena as she sat beside the girls and in front of Sarah and John.

John glanced over at the troublesome stove and asked, "May I take a look at that after I'm finished eating?"

"Go right ahead," she replied after swallowing some soup, "I heard you found the red stick at Ravvel's. Good timing too since you and Sarah are going to the festival together."

The two mentioned reddened at Aunt Rena's implication. John coughed to the side and Sarah found her soup intensely interesting. Aunt Rena laughed, clearly finding the two's behavior humorous.

"What's so funny Aunt Rena?" asked Brittany, oblivious to the adults' conversation since she and Lindsey were busy in their own world.

"Nothing little ears need to worry about," the elderly woman replied as she patted Brittany's head.

Brittany pouted and was about to ask another question when Lindsey got up to put away her soup bowl and cup. Brittany forgot entirely about her question as she hopped after Lindsey saying, "Wait for me!"

"I suspect they will be announcing the date of the festival tomorrow since you finished up at Ravvel's, he's always the last to be done," added Aunt Rena.

John nodded, embarrassment put aside.

The adults quietly finished their soup and gathered their eating utensils. As Aunt Rena washed bowls and the like John examined the stove. He pulled it out of its corner and walked around it, looking at all its sides. There seemed to be a removable panel in the back that was held in place by four screws, one in each corner.

"Aunt Rena?" John called out to catch her attention.

"Yes?"

"Do you know where I might find some tools such as a screw driver?"

"If I'm not mistaken, a tool box is kept in the stable."

"Thank you."

John stepped outside into the chilly night. It was clear with only a hint of decay from rotting vegetation. He strode to the dimly lit stable and shuffled across its cement floor to feel out ahead of him so he wouldn't trip if there happened to be something in the way. He paused when Hessen nickered at his presence and bobbed his head. John took a glance at Ralley's stall. Ralley had noticed him and turned away to face a back corner, presenting his rump and tail to John.

"Don't worry boy, I'm not here to ride you now, just looking for the tools," John said to the horse in a half whisper. He finally decided to go to the tack room.

In a dusty corner (everything was dusty in the stable despite Sarah's and a few others' efforts to keep it clean) a slightly rusted tool box sat with a monkey wrench poking out of it. John crouched down and opened the lid and found the tools he needed and may need including string, copper wire, and a hammer. He picked up the rectangular, heavy, box and made his way back to the house as quietly as a man with heavy, loose tools could.

He blew the dust off the lid before he stepped into the house and continued on back to the kitchen where the stove awaited him.

John was hunched over and knelt on one knee while unscrewing the panel on the stove. Aunt Rena leaned over him slightly as she watched his progress.

"You realize that if you break the stove you're going to have to buy it right?" Aunt Rena asked in a mock serious voice.

"The thought had occurred to me," replied John as he carefully pulled away the panel and leaned it against a wall. He saw the energist nestled in its harness and seemingly chaotic wiring all around it, but for some reason John felt that he was in his element. With confident hands he traced a few wires, hovering once in a while in places he believed caused the problem.

"I think some of the problem with this stove is that the wiring is corroded, especially at the connectors to the energist. Can you see this whitish substance?" John pointed to some bared wires near the energist harness as Aunt Rena squatted down a little and looked over John's metal arm.

"Yes, I see it. It seems out of place in a piece of machinery that's supposed to be new," replied Aunt Rena who unsquinted her eyes to look at John.

"It's been made with cheap parts. The only thing of any value in here would be the energist. I would guess the wires are low grade copper and I can't believe that half of these are bared, it could have caused a fire. It's a wonder that it hasn't all ready," John half mumbled to himself.

"My goodness!" a shocked Aunt Rena gasped.

"Don't worry, I'm going to try and dismantle this and replace a lot of the wires… I'll have to wait until tomorrow to see about replacement wires," John said to himself. He turned to Aunt Rena and asked, "Is there some place I can find the supplies for this?"

"Well, there's Marzel's at the end of the Market and in front of Big Hill…" Aunt Rena paused at the blank look on John's face and laughed, "Silly me! You haven't been out anywhere but to Ravvel's! Why don't you go ask Sarah, she knows where it is. You might as well also get a tour of the town since you'll be here for a while."

John nodded, his silvery aqua hair waving in front of his eyes.

"Hmmm," hummed Aunt Rena critically as she rubbed a lock of John's hair between her thumb and forefinger. "I think you should get your hair cut, I don't want it said that I'm harboring a ruffian."

"Aunt Rena!" John exclaimed playfully as he gently swatted her hand away.

"All this long hair makes it look like you're trying to hide you face. Why should you? You're young, handsome and have beautiful eyes, you should let young ladies notice."

John gave out a short but hearty laugh from deep within.

"I swear you're trying to marry me off…" John suddenly remembered the red stick and lowered his face to try to hide the diffident smile that appeared.

Aunt Rena affectionately patted his head like she did to children and stood up.

"Well, I'm going home now. Good night."

John stood up with a slightly concerned face and asked, "Do you need an escort?"

"Don't worry about me. I've lived here all my life and I can handle myself. But that upstart Drok Dravel won't believe me, he's been escorting me home the past ten years since he came back," Aunt Rena replied wryly.

John grinned at the hardy woman's tone and said his good night.

****

Author's Notes: Okay, so this is still a bit on the short side, but work with me people! LOL! Anyways, that's it for now until I get more written and edited.

Myst Lady ML-chan ~ It certainly does look like Folken is getting his memory back, doesn't it? *Blushes* Aw shucks, I don't write _that_ well.

Kae Noel ~ Yup, it does look like Sarah and John, I mean Folken eh heh ^_~;, are getting hitched, or are they? MWAHAHAHAHA!!! *coughs*

Aria ~ Good, bad, who knows? Even I'm not sure, we'll see how it turns out. I'll tell you this much though, I *love* happy endings no matter how unrealistic! LOL!

Otaku Pitcher ~ School and lack of interest due to wanting to read other fanfics hold me down, but that's okay. I have Creative Writing and I think it's neat. I posted up a memoir (not an autobiography) up here on ff.net under the title "Where I Come From". That's right, I'm promoting my story in this comment! HAHAHA! LOL! Anyways, don't feel bad about not being able to review in a timely manner, at least you did.

ShadowShapeShifter ~ I have abandoned stories before, two Star Trek fanfics in fact and they're still up, I feel bad for that because I have a pretty good number reading one of them and they ask for more. I intend to finish them sometime, but not now since I'm focusing on this when I can. I'll try to "keep up the good work". Will he figure out with the stove what a genius he is? You'll have to wait and see… *cough*that'sthepurpose*cough* ;-P

Kartos ~ It's been close to a month from your Chapter 10 review and now this is up. Do you think I should write more of my inane ramblings from now on? LOL!

Louie ~ Well, it's finished up, but I don't think it's long enough for you readers, or me if it wasn't my own fanfic, but you'll have to wait for me to write more.

Here's the stuff I put up originally on 10/21/02

More Stuff! 

Now I figure I want fill this page up a bit to make up for the lack of story. But what with? Perhaps my usual ramblings? (If you sat next to me in AP Psych, or know me personally you'll sympathize with those who are near me.) 

Things LSR_7 ponders about out loud in front of fellow classmates during free time:

"Why is the sky blue?" (Kevin explains that space is actually a really dark blue so it filters through our atmosphere as blue. James says that it's actually the energy in the light and the atmosphere, how else can the sunset be several colors? And other stuff that went through one ear and out the other from utter incomprehension on LSR_7's part. Occam's razor dictates that Kevin's explanation is the best.)

"Did I train Alex using the Premack's principle? I make him throw away the Saran wrap after he eats the fruit since he usually never brings his lunch so he takes my fruit from my lunch." (LSR_7 is given a weird expression by another Alex, in her psych class, she knows and he tells her that he is ashamed to have the same name as the Alex I trained, who is a friend of mine.)

"So wait, is the water blue because the sky is blue? Or is it the other way around?"

"I learned a lot of stuff from Star Trek books!" (Given a weird look by Alex in my psych class.)

I think that's all I can think of right now.

Anyways, I gotta get to work on my homework. Until next time, bye!

-LSR_7


	13. Chapter 12

**Author's Notes:** I'm apologizing in advance for the lack of length in this chapter. When this whole story is finished I think I'm going to re-chapter it, not that it'd do any of you any good since I doubt you'll come back to read the whole story just because it got re-chaptered! LOL! 

I'm having trouble writing this story, I know how it's supposed to go, but it's the getting to that point that's hard to write. Also, there' hardly any romance, if at all, in this story so far. I hope to fix that in future chapters. Bear with me people!

**Chapter 12**

He went back to study the stove more and decided that it should be fairly simple removing the mess of wires and the harnessed energist. The innards suddenly came under intense scrutiny as an idea formed in John's mind.

"Maybe…" John said slowly to himself.

He pushed the stove back into place leaving the panel off. He picked up the screws and set them on the counter where they'll be easy to see and out of the way.

John dusted his hands off only to realize too late as thin, red welts rose where his metal claws scraped against his callused palm. No serious damage was done; he hardly felt a sting.

He let out a small sigh and washed his hands at the kitchen sink. He had discovered a while ago that his metal arm didn't seem to get water damage. This was found out when he and the other men at Mr. Peronel's worked in pouring rain.

After drying his hands on a kitchen towel, John proceeded to search for Sarah's room. He finally located the door to her room at the back of the house. Approaching the door, John gave it a couple knocks.

"Who is it?" asked Sarah's clear voice.

"It's John."

"Just a moment John!"

He heard some shuffling of feet on a wooden floor and some rustling. A click was heard, registering in John's mind as a lock. The door finally opened revealing a Sarah who looked ready for bed. She was wearing an old oversized shirt and a faded pair of loose sleeping pants with a jacket thrown over her shoulders for some modesty.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" apologized John upon seeing her state of dress.

"Oh, not at all. I was actually reading. Was there something you needed?" Sarah asked, a little self-conscious.

"If you're not busy tomorrow would you mind taking me to town? I'm in need of some supplies for the stove and Aunt Rena suggested you as I might as well get a tour of the area."

Sarah's eyebrows pushed together slightly as she thought through tomorrow's schedule. Unbeknownst to her John was gazing at her fondly with softened eyes.

"Well…" she said cautiously as she double checked her mental schedule, her eyes scrunched up towards the ceiling as if it held all the answers, "We'll be checking Mr. Donas and Ganji out and then I'll just have to check on a couple others… I can't get going until eleven. Is that fine?"

"Yes, that's fine. Thank you."

"No problem. Anything else?" Sarah enquired.

"No, no, nothing else."

"We'll need to take the horses so our trip will take up less time. Do you want to meet at the door?"

"That will be fine."

'This is getting a little awkward,' Sarah thought then said, "Well, good night then."

"Good night Sarah," John responded and slowly turned and walked away as Sarah closed her door.

"That was odd," Sarah vocalized quietly to herself. She took her jacket off and hung it in her closet, then walked to her bed and turned off the oil lamp beside it to go to sleep.

John walked to his room with a hand rubbing his face.

'I must be really tired,' John thought as an excuse for why he had acted strangely, almost unresponsive to Sarah those last moments before he walked away.

He closed his door once he was inside and changed into his sleepwear. The room was fairly dark, as the sun had already set, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He walked to the window and opened it to the cold air. The sky was clear, as it often was on cold nights, and what he saw amazed him in its utter natural beauty.

The black velvet of space held thousands, perhaps billions, of twinkling stars visible to the naked eye. They were scattered everywhere as far as he could see and amongst them was the shining, predominately blue and white orb with its own smaller grey sister orbiting it.

John leaned against the windowsill, staring up at the sky and its wonders. How he would love to be amid them in their glory.

'Perhaps you can,' a little voice whispered within him.

He shook his head almost vehemently at the idea. What if he was seen? It's unnatural.

'Then why do you have wings if not to fly?' the voice softly argued.

Why indeed?

John abruptly closed the window, stopping any further argument if only for the moment. He stalked to his bed and tugged the covers away from the bed and slid under them. He felt restless now that he was presented with a temptation by that small urging voice.

"Oof!"

Two small bodies had jumped on John's unprotected stomach almost simultaneously.

"Good morning Mr. John!" Brittany said loudly with a large grin, Lindsey only smiled and had slid beside John on the bed rather than atop him as they had accomplished their goal of waking him.

John playfully hid his face with a pillow.

"Mr. John! We know you're there!" shouted Brittany, grabbing at the pillow.

As soon as the pillow was removed from John's face, he sprung up with a roar. The girls squealed and jumped off the bed. He ran after them, a carefree laugh escaping his lips as he roared again and chased the girls part way down the hall before he caught up with them and swung them up onto his shoulders. The girls laughed and squirmed, trying to escape John's firm grip.

"Did you guys think you could get away with disturbing the Great Dragon's sleep without consequences?" John asked in a deep mock-serious voice.

"Don't eat us!" Brittany squealed out under John's tickling fingers.

"Hmmm, that was an idea…"

"Eek!"

"How will you appease the Great Dragon?" John asked, still in his deep "Great Dragon" voice.

He was walking to the dining room and had brought the girls down into his arms and against his chest.

"Perhaps _tickling_ you will satisfy me!"

"No!" They shrieked, but it was too late.

John balanced the girls on his metal arm and attacked their sides with his free hand. The full out laughing and giggling rang out through the hall.

**Author's Notes (again):  I don't remember if I didn't answer any questions or comments for the previous chapter so I'm not putting any here.  *sigh*  Please review!**

-LSR_7****


	14. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:** Please try my other fanfics and original fics.  I really would like your opinions on them.  Yes, this is shameless self-promotion!

"I Am A Rock" is a Gundam Wing songfic about WuFei.  It's a one-shot about 700 words. 

These others are all in FictionPress.net under my same name "LSR-7"

"Changing Seasons" is about a girl who goes through treatment for leukemia based on my father's experience.  It's about 3,000 words.  

"Just Desserts" is based on a picture whose name I don't know, but I think he was the illustrator for a children's book about a dentist and a fig.  It's a bit of a supernatural piece.  Almost 800 words.  I first wrote this in seventh grade and then revamped it in ninth. 

"The Painted-form Wife: A Retelling" is a retelling of a Japanese folktale about a beautiful woman and the farmer she comes to marry.  I think this is about 3,600 words. 

"The Telltale Swab" is about my experience to the dentist's, it's meant to be humorous.  It's almost 1,000 words.  

"Where I Come From" is my short memoir about a section of myself that deals with my ethnic background.  It's about 2,000 words.

So please go and read these and tell me what you think!

**Chapter 13**

 "Bye Ganji!  Remember to take those stitches out in a couple weeks!" hollered Sarah as she waved at the middle-aged man.  He tipped his worn felt hat at her and rode out of the property.

Sarah shoved her hands into the deep pockets of her faded grey trousers, trying to ward out the cold and stiffly walked back into the house.  In her hurry to get out of the cold, she almost ran her nose into someone's broad chest.

"Oh!" she said, startled, "Excuse me!"

"It's alright," replied a lightly amused masculine voice.

Sarah looked up to John's face and said with a smile, "You're right on time!"

"I try."

"Did you bring money?  You'll probably need it."

"Got it right here," John answered, lifting a hefty sack into Sarah's field of vision.

"Great!  It feels a bit cold out, so could you wait a minute while I get my jacket?"

John gave a nod and Sarah dashed off to her room.

The two rode leisurely as Sarah pointed out landmarks until they reached the inner town.  They dismounted from their mounts, Sarah nodding or waving in greeting to people she knew as she led Hessen by the reins, John with Ralley in tow a step behind her.

"Here's Marzel's," announced Sarah.

A fairly well organized shop greeted John's eyes as he looked through the open door and shutters.  Sarah and John tied their horses to a nearby post then went into the building.

Inside the shop and beside the door there was a scarred, wooden counter.  In front of it, a burly man with a thick, curly, black beard, parted hair, and a leather apron snored on a chair.

Sarah grinned at the man before sighing quietly, feeling apologetic at having to disturb him.  Walking up to him, she gently nudged him awake.

"Wake up Marzel, you've got a customer."

The black haired man bobbed his head up and rubbed his eyes with thick, callused fingers.

"Sarah, is that you?" Marzel asked with his deep, accented voice as he squinted to confirm with his eyes what his ears told him.

"Yes it's me, Marzel," she answered in a soft fond voice she reserved for the elderly.  "As I was saying, you have a customer."

Marzel looked up towards the door and saw John's blurry figure.

"Hello there stranger! Hang on a moment while I find my glasses," he told John in a friendly business voice.

Sarah almost giggled while the elderly gentleman searched for his spectacles.  John patiently waited by the door.

"Marzel?" Sarah finally said.

"Hm?" he hummed, half listening as he searched through a drawer.

"Your glasses are on your head."

"Hmmm?  Oh!  You're right, thank you Sarah," Marzel mumbled good naturedly as he fumbled with the glasses that had been hiding in his hair.

"Sorry for the wait.  I'm Marzel, who might you be?" this question was directed at John.

"I'm John…" he trailed off, not having anything else to identify himself with.

Something seemed to light up in the elder man's face and he asked, "Of the Peronel's?"

"Yes," John answered uncertainly.  Apparently the other men had spread news of him.

A large smile crinkled Marzel's eyes, a jolly face.

"Then you're the new hard worker who found the red stick this year, aren't ya?"

John gave a small, embarrassed cough into his fist and looked back up.

'Is he blushing?' Sarah wondered, but could not confirm it as he had composed himself.

Marzel gave a knowing look at John and then leaned towards Sarah and waggled his bushy eyebrows at her none too subtly.  Sarah battled the growing heat in her cheeks and tried to change the focus by asking, "John, you needed stove parts?"

"Ah yes.  Mister-"

"Just Marzel," Marzel interrupted.

"Marzel…" John began, almost testing the name out, "I'm looking for insulated wires and some adapters… Do you have energist connectors?" John asked, slightly hopeful towards the end since the clerk was nodding thoughtfully, a smile creasing his face.

"You've come to the right place."

Marzel swung a meaty arm around John's shoulders and asked questions about the young man's project as he led him to a corner of his shop.  Sarah sat on the vacated stool and glanced out the open shutter to confirm that the horses were okay.  She looked back to the men and saw that they seemed to be totally engrossed in a conversation.

John was making hand gestures, explaining modifications he was planning, Marzel nodding in understanding or questioning for clarification.  Marzel walked to the counter in a shuffling tromp and pulled a piece of paper and a pencil out of one of many drawers and shuffled back to John, holding the items out to him.  They cleared a small space and John drew and wrote small notes of measurements.

"I think I see what you're trying to do," Marzel finally said after studying the sketch.

They seemed to be gathering odd bits and pieces, and the only thing Sarah could identify was the spool of insulated wire John held.

The young adults exited the shop several minutes later, John now being in possession of a medium sized brown paper bag.

After depositing the goods John bought into a saddlebag, John informed Sarah in an almost embarrassed manner of his need to purchase clothing.

"I know just the place," she replied, patting John's hand reassuringly.

'Is he afraid of clothes shopping?' Sarah wondered, 'Or is he shy about me going with him?  Maybe he needs underwear!'

Sarah blushed at the last thought and efficiently led him and their horses to a well kept, glass-windowed shop.  A wife and husband team owned and ran this business, known for their efficiency and quick service.  Several women and a couple men milled around in the store, no doubt looking for suitable attire for the upcoming festival.

"Hullo Sarah," one of the wandering women said with a pleasant smile.

"Hello Monki," Sarah replied in kind.

"Looking for clothes with your man friend?" the young woman asked in a conversational tone.

"You could say that, I suppose.  I'm actually showing John around town.  Oh!  Sorry!" Sarah said, suddenly realizing she had not introduced him to anyone properly.  Turning to John she pulled him by his arm next to her and gestured to the other people in the store, introducing everyone to John and John to everyone else.

One or two of the people present couldn't help but stare at John's metal arm while the others either averted their gazes or ignored it completely.  Neither action was lost upon John and Sarah.  Polite conversation about the festival began, filling in John, the stranger, on details and customs.  They really didn't have much opportunity to talk about the goings on of the festival in such depth usually because there were few new comers to their town so they were more than happy to talk to John.

"…and _then the young men chase the chosen goose into a crate!  There's one for each participant with their own numbers.  If they get it into one of theirs they win the goose!  But last year was just __dreadfully hilarious!  That goose had _spunk_ and chased the men!  One of them even __hid in a crate trying to get __away from that vicious goose!  In fact, they just ended up working together, they didn't _care_ who got it as long as they caught it and ended the madness.  I'll tell you, they certainly ate that little devil with relish!" _

As John listened intently to a few of the chatty women on the town's seemingly strange traditions, Sarah wandered towards the back where Mr. and Mrs. Tankurcous, the owners, would be.

"Mrs. Tankurcous?" called out Sarah.

"Sarah?  Is that you?" came a young voice.

"Kancia?"

The mentioned woman peeked her head out around a dressing room door.  A couple of rolled red curls framed her pale, rounded face, and her lace-covered, over-indulged body soon followed; she and Sarah were hidden behind a partition from the rest of the store.

Sarah clinically took stock of her flame-haired friend as a doctor and a friend worried about Kancia's health.  A few times before Sarah had told Kancia of her concerns, but Kancia couldn't kick her snacking habit nor keep to a regular exercise regimen.  Of course Aunt Rena argued that Kancia was a healthy female specimen.

'She would,' Sarah thought humorously.  She mentally shook herself of these thoughts and returned to the present.

"Did you know that Nanaii came back?" Kancia gushed.

"No, I didn't.  Did you see her?" a happy Sarah asked.

"Yes!  I saw her, Junes, and their parents coming into town with a few others.  They were absolutely covered in dust and were really tired!  They came back in time for the festival, I'm glad to see!  They miss it half the time!"

Sarah listened to her excited friend, whose voice would crescendo to illustrate, in Kancia's mind, the most important information.  Sarah was glad to hear that Nanaii had returned safely since traveling was so dangerous, especially now that the Zaibach Empire had fallen.  Soldiers-turned-bandits and some natural predators haunted the forests, dry ravines, and canyons of the broken empire.  Although it didn't seem that war had touched this country town, the draft and the shipping off of men to dig out drag-energists for the war effort had certainly left a jagged scar in the hearts of the townsfolk.

"Hello ladies!" came the well-settled cheerful voice of Mrs. Tankurcous.  The lanky, well dressed (even though it was her work clothes) woman came into view with a canvas measuring tape hanging from her graceful neck.

"Hello Mrs. Tankurcous," replied Sarah, smiling at the happy businesswoman.

"Are you here to pick up your dress?  Let's check and make sure the alterations still hold true."

And before Sarah could reply the still youthful looking middle-aged woman pulled her away and Sarah gave a helpless look to her red haired friend.  Kancia waved, an amused smile on her face, and she then went back to her dressing room.

John followed Mr. Tankurcous to the back of the men's dressing rooms where many bolts of cloth lay stacked beside drawers and cabinets.  The sprightly co-owner of the store stopped at one drawer and pulled it open to reveal an assortment of men's underwear.  He began to pull out so many colors and patterns that it made John dizzy just watching him.

"Ah, there now, here's a nice one!" said Mr. Tankurcous.

John looked down to see what had been chosen by the other man.  When he did, a very bright green assaulted his eyes which caused him to quickly start worrying.

"Ha ha!  You should have seen the look on your face!  I'm sorry, this one is a gag I love to use, but I don't get much opportunity to use it.  Now back to business!"

John almost sighed in relief, because he had been quite worried about offending the graying, elder man.  Still smiling happily over his joke, the tailor waved his hand over the open drawer and said, "Take your pick, I believe they should all fit you."

Mr. Tankurcous was famous for his accurate guesses concerning measurements, and although John wasn't aware of this, he still trusted the older man's judgment and looked for suitable boxers.

"You're here to get dressed up for the festival too, am I right?" the curious proprietor asked over his shoulder as he walked to a storage room nearby.

"Yes, and I would like some clothing of my own since I've been wearing ones lent to me." John informed him.  While he spoke John had found a pair of white boxers with big, red hearts printed on them and made a funny face as he put them back and finally dug out some plain black and blue ones.  After another moment of thought he also picked up a plaid pair.

Suddenly a bundle of cloth was shoved into his arms, and John desperately tried to keep the items that already occupied his arms from falling.

"Try these on," said Mr. Tankurcous.

Setting some items down, John carefully unfolded the black material and found that he was holding a pair of expensive looking trousers with a dark blue stripe going down the outer sides.  To go with these he also had draped over his arms a white button-up shirt, with a tall collar both made of fine quality materials as well and a dark blue vest.

"I thought those colors would suit you," said the tailor as John fingered the fine material.

Turning and walking into a dressing room, John closed the door behind him.  He came back out earlier than expected, his upper body bare.

"Uh, sir…" John started.

"Oh, yes, I should have thought," Mr. Tankurcous interrupted while pulling his measuring tape from around his neck.

"Arms out and away from your sides please," the slim man requested in a business-like tone.

John complied and the storeowner took measurements around the shoulder with the mechanical arm then across the shoulders.  It seemed the elder man was about to ask something when his eyes lingered over the bolted straps on John's chest, but with a show of kindness he did not.

"A moment please," the shorter man said and briskly walked into the recently vacated dressing room.  He returned with the white shirt and blue vest.  "Arm through the sleeve please."

John did as he was told and put his left arm through the loose white sleeve.  Mr. Tankurcous buttoned the cuff and then pulled the shirt straight as he draped the other sleeve over John's right shoulder.

"This would fit, it just needs some alterations on the other sleeve," he paused a moment before looking up at the young man to ask, "Do you want to hide the arm?  I can make the sleeve larger.  Or would you rather leave it bare?"

'Do you want to hide the arm?  Hide the arm?' John echoed in his thoughts.  He considered in silence, looking at the loosely fisted hand of his metal arm before remembering Sarah.

"Bare," John answered without hesitation.

Mr. Tankurcous told John to come back the next day for the altered outfit.  After he got dressed back in his clothes, John left a deposit and walked back out to the main part of the store.

He soon saw Sarah chatting with a plump red-haired woman and she noticed him and waved him over.  The woman she was talking to turned around to face him as he walked over.

"Kancia, this is John.  John, this is Kancia, one of my friends," Sarah said, gesturing to each other with her free hand.  The other one was occupied with a long bag that was draped over her arm.

The pale red-head smiled up at him and for a moment, and John thought she had a slyness about her.

"I've heard _so much about you!  So, will you be breaking the stick with Sarah?" Kancia asked in a cheerful but blunt manner._

"Kancia!" Sarah said through clenched teeth, her face reddening in embarrassment as Kancia giggled.

Meanwhile John was at a loss, not understanding the terminology.

A couple of people nearby overheard what was said and shifted slightly closer as went through items on tables and counters, trying to listen without drawing attention to themselves.  This community, unfortunately, thrived on gossip, as there was usually little else to do aside from work.

When John didn't comment and Kancia noticed his blank face, she elaborated. "The one who finds the stick will get married in the coming spring.  You found the stick at Peronel's, correct?"

At John's nod she continued, "You're supposed to break the red stick with the one you love, and you keep one half while she keeps the other since you are two parts of a whole just like the stick."

At this information John's eyebrows lifted in sudden understanding.

"Thank you for informing me.  I'll keep that in mind," he quietly responded, very aware of the implications of his statement.

Kancia nudged Sarah with her elbow and Sarah looked around, avoiding people's eyes while hoping no one noticed her flaming cheeks.

**Author's Notes: **Once again I must apologize for my tardiness in posting up a new chapter.  Here are a couple reasons (A.K.A. "excuses") for the months lateness.

I'm in my senior year of high school and I had to write several essays to go with the college applications I had to fill out.  The good news is that through my hard work I got accepted to all four of the colleges I applied to.  Just for the heck of it I'm telling you guys that three of the four colleges are in Washington and the other one is in Oregon.  I also applied for a WUE scholarship and got one for one of the Washington school so it'll pay for more than half of my tuition (not including books, boarding and food!).  Yay me!  I'm hoping I won't end up paying any student loans since I was told by several people both on the net and off that loans are evil.

Another reason is plainly school itself, although my work load has decreased since entering second semester and I'm having fun in Jewelry and AP Psychology.  I can't say the Japanese is the most fun, that's only because I'm teaching myself because I'm ahead of my class, which is the highest at Japanese 4 and it's hard to regulate my studying, but I'm going along and doing well on the tests.  This includes learning more than ten kanji (Chinese characters) a chapter and I'm trying to do about two chapters a month, although I signed to do one chapter a month.

Applying for scholarships is tiring.  That's all I'm going to say about that one.

It's hard for me to continue writing, but I want to.  The next chapter will probably take forever to come out too, you'll just have to deal with it!  *Sigh*  If I weren't writing this story and I was just a reader I'd be tired of waiting and am since there are a few stories out there that haven't updated in a while.

It was my birthday on Sunday, February 16th.  I turned 18!  YAY!

In Alaska, where I live, there is a celebration called Fur Rendezvous, Fur Rondy for short.  During this time the dog sled races start (unfortunately the snow disappeared so they have to start it in Fairbanks now, which is about 8 hours away in the middle of Alaska) I think this is a result of global warming.  Anyways, other events include weight pulling contest where dogs try to pull the most weight the fastest for a short distance.  There is also oyster shucking.  I was with my family at a seafood restaurant where an oyster shucking contest is held every year and I figured I wanted to enter it.  I got the entry form and found out that the minimum age limit was 21, but I was allowed to because my dad signed off on it.  It was ladies night so I competed against three women and we got a lesson on how to shuck oysters.  These oysters were so hard that even the top chef and the owner of the restaurant, who were teaching us, were having a bit of trouble.  They chose out easy looking ones from the "Rocky Balboa" oysters and changed it so that we only had to do 6 instead of the customary 12 oysters.  Anyways, to make a long story short I won with the fastest time of 2:21 minutes (the woman in 2nd got them done in 2:40) and the neatest ones meaning that I hadn't scratched the oysters up.  I won $50!  I am the ladies night champion and it was my first time shucking oysters.  I had cut my ring finger on the 6th oyster though.  But that's okay.

This chapter is probably one of the most boring ones I have written.  I'm sorry if it bored you.  I hope to have more action soon.  I don't mean sword fights and killing dragons, but something like activity instead of shopping.  I hate clothing shopping with a passion!  Well, not with a passion, I just hate wearing dresses and skirts (with the exception of Prom I suppose) and having to go try on clothes.  Anyways, enough of that.  I hope the next chapter will include the festival, but it might get pushed until the chapter after the next.

Now onto the comments!

Kartos~ Too bad I don't have the patience or the time (ok, maybe I might have the time if I worked at it :-P) to do as you suggested.  I have school still.  Glad you liked the chapter, this one, I hope, is longer and more to your liking compared to the last one.

Rai Dorian~ Thanks!

ShadowShapeShifter~ Thanks, I like having cute scenes, who couldn't when you have little kids to play with?  I think it'll be a while yet before you see wings again.

Kae Noel~ Well, here's more but not soon.  Sorry!  I'm waiting for your installments for "Weeping Willow" as well.

Elihice~ What's MarySueism?  I tried to look it up in the dictionary but I couldn't find it.  Sorry I left you suffering for 3 months!

Teal Huskie~ Thank you very much.  I'll see if I can get to the posters sometime.  I had forgotten until I saw your comment.

Erik's Girl~ Thank you very much.  Mmmm… Folken… *drool*

Otaku Pitcher~ Thank you so much for all your compliments.  Don't berate yourself, I'm a bad author for not updating as much as I should and I'm impatient with myself.

Jessica~ Wow!  You're my 75th reviewer!  Thanks for leaving a review and your compliments!  I'm glad that you like it.  This is the first of its type I've ever written.  I really do hope this turns out to be a good romance, but as you can see nothing much has happened yet.  Hello neighbor!  Perhaps if I yell loud enough you can hear my voice from Alaska.  LOL!  You're lucky that you found my fanfic only recently, you didn't have to go through the 3 month wait like most of the others.

Thank you everyone for your patience and for reading.  Please, as always, leave a review!  Whether it's a question about the story, clarification, about me or anything else.

PS- I have art up on mediaminer.org.  This includes a sketch of Sarah, several of Folken, Van, one of Celena and others from a couple other anime and just art.  If you want the address, please e-mail me at LSR_7@yahoo.com and I'll send you the address.


	15. Chapter 14

Another slow chapter people. Sorry.

****

Chapter 14

John and Sarah were on the road home. The bright sun was high in the azure sky and its light glinted off the colored leaves on the trees that lined the road sporadically.

A breeze swept up a swirl of leaves and then rose up to ruffle John's longish, light hair and Sarah's loose, dark bangs that were growing out to the sides.

John looked over at Sarah with his head partially turned. She seemed to have recovered from the clothes shop and was now enjoying the scenery and the occasional cool breeze. Turning her head, Sarah caught John looking at her.

"Yes?" she asked, breaking the peaceful silence and starting what would hopefully be an unembarrassing and enjoyable conversation.

John gave her one of his gentle smiles, shook his head and looked down the dirt-packed road before replying, "Nothing really, I just noticed that you seem to enjoy the outdoors and nature."

Sarah smiled and said, "I do, it's one of the loveliest things. There are times when I wish I could capture a moment to look at whenever I want like a winter sunrise or sunset. They can be the most astounding and beautiful sights, with all the colors and the colors in between those colors. I try not to miss it all when I can help it."

John enjoyed how Sarah's face lit up on the subject and could see her remembering those colorful, beautiful moments of nature.

"Once, when I was little, I got to ride on an airship during one of my father's business trips. It was the first and only time I've ever flown. My father took me to Daedalus and we returned on horseback. I'll never forget seeing everything from bird's eye view. Buildings looked like incredibly small dollhouses and people were smaller than the tip of my pinky. Things looked so different. The fields were like a patchwork quilt and water looked much bluer than it does up close. Everything was just green around, and then it cut into and covered the tops of reddish yellow cliffs and short canyons…" Sarah stopped talking, shyly looked at John and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to talk so much."

"Not at all," replied John, thinking of Sarah's obvious enthusiasm. "I take it that not many fly around here."

"Yes, in fact I haven't seen any airships in these parts since the draft," Sarah replied carefully as if protecting herself from unbidden memories those key words brought up.

He wanted to reach out to comfort her, but did not and instead looked ahead, although he drew Ralley slightly nearer to Hessen's shoulder.

John was hunched over scattered parts on the wooden floor of the kitchen. He sat cross-legged on the floor and seemed to tinker with a mass of wires and screws and other unidentifiable metallic objects with a small screwdriver. The gutted stove sat forlornly in the corner with its open back facing John.

The young man carefully scrubbed greasy, corroded parts with an old rag and worked with ideas constantly running through his head as he modified salvageable parts and set aside useless ones. He often stopped to write notes on scraps of paper and take measurements.

He adjusted the dials on the top of the stove and noted the changes as it clicked in adjustment. A small number of patients watched the light haired man's activity with interest. When these left they were replaced with others until it became too late into the night for most to still be awake.

Some time past midnight a weary yet triumphant John stood up and stretched. He had just screwed in the back panel and cleaned up. The changes he had made should turn the stove into a more efficient energy consumer. It required less energy from the energist and now the cooking top could handle two independent temperatures, meaning that instead of just one whole plate, it now worked like two independent stoves and one could be turned off if it wasn't needed which would cut down on the energy used.

John had tested the stove with water and was fairly pleased with the results. In the morning he would have to explain the changes to Aunt Rena.

At that moment Sarah walked in bleary eyed with a jacket wrapped around her and she squinted in the light of the kitchen.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping John?" she asked tiredly.

"Sarah, you didn't need to come on my account. Go back to sleep," John chided gently.

Sarah could barely keep her eyes open, but she nodded, then asked, "Are you finished already?"

"Yes, I'll tell you about it tomorrow, or rather later today," he answered quietly.

Sarah nodded yet again and leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, resting her eyes. John had washed his hands and turned to see Sarah seeming to sag. He walked up to her and touched her shoulder. She sluggishly responded and pushed herself up and tried to propel herself back to the hallway to meet her warm bed.

When she tottered unevenly John smiled lightly, then came up to Sarah and bent down a little, scooping her up into his arms. Her head willingly came to rest against his left shoulder, his warmth and hers seeping through their clothes. Sarah breathed in John's comforting masculine smell and mumbled, "I'm sorry… you should have been in bed… thank you."

John reached Sarah's room and nudged open her partially closed door, then walked across the wooden floor of her dark room. A faint light from the hallway cast some light from the doorway to her unmade bed which provided him light to see by. He set Sarah down on the still warm bed and pulled the covers over her, carefully tracing a finger across her brow before tucking a stray lock of black hair behind her ear. He then straightened up and left her room, quietly closing the door behind him before heading to his. On the way, he checked in on the two little girls.

He noticed that Brittany's blankets were half off her and entered the dark room in a quiet shuffle, making sure there were no toys to trip on. He bent over Brittany's bed and straightened her covers, bringing them up over her curled form. Pausing a moment after this was done, he studied both girls in their separate beds, smiling slightly at their innocence. Lindsey turned from her side to her back. Her chubby, childish face was relaxed and a hand now poked out of her covers, and resting beside her on her white pillow with her fingers curled.

John smiled to himself and walked out of the quiet room before heading for his. He closed the door behind him and thought of Sarah. Despite her sleepiness she had gotten up to check on him. How very thoughtful an act. She often did things like that, not just for him, but for others as well.

'Perhaps it is part of being a doctor,' he thought.

Berin, Sarah's mother, did things that were much commended. John rarely saw her though since she was either doing some sort of paper work, checking on other patients, or being called to town.

John shifted his thoughts back to Sarah and recalled their conversation earlier that day about her fondness of flying, or at least her memory of it. He contemplated seriously before making his decision.

'Perhaps it would do me some good. I'm only testing,' he thought to himself.

John stepped to the center of the open space of his room and pulled his shirt off over his head. He tossed it onto his bed then hunched over as he tensed his back. He felt two knots, one along each shoulder blade. A sudden release relaxed his back and falling grey feathers brushed his bare shoulders and back.

He looked over his shoulder and saw the outline of his large wing in the moonlight as he experimentally moved it. His muscles shifted and drew the wing against his body. An itch on his other wing beckoned for his attention and he dug his fingers hesitantly under the thick, ashen feathers to get to the spot.

After this was accomplished he softly flapped his wings and made yet another decision. Turning to the window, John walked to it with his wings once again folded against his back.

A small voice in his mind seemed to call him with encouragement when he opened the window. It had an opening just large enough to allow him passage to the outside. Feeling the cold night air suddenly made him hesitate and rethink his decision.

'No, it's worth it. Besides,' he rationalized, 'I may need to be able to fly one day.'

With this thought he leaned out of the window, both hands tightly clutching the sill. He rested his hip along it and pulled his wings fully outside and spread them. He flapped them slowly, working muscles that seemed new, yet somehow familiar.

With his wings now fully stretched out, he finally brought his legs up and pushed off.

The ground approached John too quickly and he began to flap like mad. He crashed to the ground onto his right shoulder with the metal protecting him a bit, and tumbled away from the site of impact, his wings protesting their odd angle. John tried to push himself up and sharply cried out through clenched teeth, although it was somewhat restrained. His wings helplessly fluttered about him and shivered. He shuddered with pain from the right side of his rib cage and abdomen that had been injured by landing on his metal arm. John didn't think he had broken any bones. Thankfully, the worst seemed to only be some bruising. He forced himself to stand and then looked up at his window. With surprise, John noticed that he had actually put some distance between himself and the building. Flexing his wings carefully first to make sure there was no damage to them, he once again began to flap them. Soon he was off the ground.

Happy with his accomplishment, but fearing that his wings could give out at any moment, he flew as quickly as he could to his window and surprised himself with his accuracy. Catching the ledge of the window after half of his body was lunged into the room, John attempted to retract his wings. He could then feel his wings being pulled in, the muscles in his back shifting. A cloud of feathers fluttered down, and most of them strangely enough seemed to dissipate into the air. He finally finished pulling himself in, crashed onto the floor and froze at the sound.

He hoped he hadn't woken anyone. Listening carefully, there was only the stillness of deep night and the silence of the stars. Sighing in relief, he slid an arm out and pushed himself off the floor with a grunt. Once he was standing he rotated his left arm and rubbed it, trying to soothe his aching muscles and bones.

John was pulling his shirt back on when he heard his door creak. Turning around quickly, he saw the shape of a small child in the blue and black shadows of the night.

"Lindsey?" he asked quietly.

Lindsey ran to him and hugged his leg tightly. Her arms loosened as he bent down to pick her up and put her on his lap as he sat down on his bed, securely holding her in his arms.

"What are you doing here?" he asked gently, looking down at her small form. Lindsey looked up from John's chest and said in her lilting child's whisper, "I heard noises and they scared me."

"Where's Brittany?"

"She's still in her bed. She didn't wake up."

"Do you want me to take you back to your bed?" he questioned softly, berating himself for waking and scaring Lindsey with his falls.

Lindsey shook her head. She stood up in his lap and wrapped her arms around John's neck as if intending to never let go.

'I see where this is going,' he thought with an understanding smile.

"You want to sleep here? With me?"

Lindsey nodded. John softly sighed then nodded to himself. Holding Lindsey with one arm he pulled the covers away from the bed and slid in with Lindsey beside him. She curled up beside the large protective body and drifted off to sleep, like in the days before the war had taken away her daddy.

John covered them both with his blankets and made sure that Lindsey would stay warm. The faint starlight painted her face in a pale glow and showed the young man beside her a faint smile.

John set his head on his pillow and closed his tired eyes, letting his dulled body aches fall away in slumber.

Sarah woke up gradually and found herself in a soft bed. Her covers warm around her and the ever so slight chill of the air made the bed quite comfortable. She squinted her eyes open and was about to close them and go back to sleep again when she sighed and pushed back the covers.

Shivering in the cold air, she hopped across her colder wooden floor and found a pair of clean socks to wear in a drawer a few feet away from her bed. She changed into loose, hay colored pants and a plain blue shirt. Sarah then brushed her wavy hair back into a pony tail then walked out of her room.

She stopped just outside with a stricken look on her face, and her hand on the doorknob, when she realized that John had put her to bed. Deciding that she needed to apologize and thank him (and also needing instructions to operate the modified stove) she walked to John's room with unsure steps.

Lightly treading the halls, so she would not wake someone, she reached John's door at the end of the hall and found that it was partially open. Sarah tapped on the doorframe and asked softly, "John? Are you awake already?"

There was no answer so she slowly pushed the door open and poked her head into the room. What she saw made her forget her nervousness and made her smile instead.

John slept with his arms flopped out on either side of him. He was facing towards the door with a thatch of his silky, silvery hair tickling the bridge of his fine nose and the rest of the light colored mass was mussed up. His mouth hung open, allowing him breathe better.

On top of John's stomach and chest Lindsey was sleeping peacefully across him, her ear near his heart.

****

Author's Notes: Well, if you haven't figured it out I might not be updating as soon as we all like because I'm a Senior in high school with a touch of "senioritis". I know that I'll be graduating soon enough so I want to very soon, but I know I'll miss high school. I have been accepted to all five of the colleges I applied for now: Western Oregon Univ., Western Washington Univ., Eastern Washington Univ., Washington State Univ., and Central Washington Univ. I also got a couple scholarships.

Also, I wanted to tell you guys that I might be making a humorous version of "Nail" where there will probably be bloopers of some of these scenes in this story, alternate outcomes, and just weird stuff that you normally don't see in this story using the characters in here. I don't know when I'll start writing it, but I'm just giving you guys a warning. It will be called "You Got Nailed" or something like that and it will be posted under Escaflowne.

And now for the comments!

Teal Huskie- Thanks for checking to see if I updated! And now that you left your e-mail, I can tell you when I put up more chapters. It'll be a little while more before Folken finds out who he is.

Kartos- Well, I've updated, but as you can see it doesn't really go forward.

Rai Dorian- Thank you very much. I still need to register to vote. Yes, plaid boxers! What else are they gonna be? Everyone is going to wear boxers in this story! HAHAHA! *ahem* Thank you.

Otaku Pitcher- Yes, I updated, but don't be too expectant since I'm rather random. I'll see if I can see a softball game. I might as well since I'll be there for several years. Thanks for the complement!

ShadowShapeShifter- Did you like the wings? Sorry there wasn't much for it. It's good that you start with the college stuff when you're a junior, trust me, it's that much less hurrying to do in your senior year. Thank you for the B-Day greeting and the oyster shucking. So you have family up here? Did they tell you about our snowless winter and how the snow came back last week? It's been crazy up here.

Kae Noel- Go ahead and demand more chapters! I do it anyway with stories I read on ff.net even though I haven't updated for forever. I read your story again a bit ago and I think I left a couple reviews. I have found it interesting how you had that molting scene. I liked the idea.

Thank you all for reviewing and I hope you guys will continue to do that!

-LSR_7


	16. Chapter 15

Note: This is not the full chapter!  I decided to post something up since it's been more than two months and I know that if I were reading someone's fanfic that I liked and they didn't update for a really long time that I'd be anxious and wondering if they were still writing.  And sorry for not e-mailing everyone, my computer was causing me grief!

Oh, and please read "You Got Nailed" which is a parody of some of these chapters.  It's only 3 chapters long at the moment.

**Chapter 15**

_Folken__ felt a pressure on his stomach from small arms that tried to encompass him, although they only reached part way.  The warm blob that seemed intent on overtaking him then spoke._

_"Aniue?" it asked timidly, hopefully._

_The pale, lanky youth stirred in his bed, restricted in his movements from rolling because of the weight on his abdomen.  He slowly raised a slender hand to his eyes and pushed some of his lengthy hair out of his face.  He half opened his lids and revealed sleepy, dark red eyes._

_"Van…"_

_Joyful at the awakening of his older brother, Van sat up on Folken's stomach and leaned on his small hands against the teenager's chest.  A large smile lit up his bright sienna eyes and the rest of his slightly tanned complexion._

_Van jumped off of Folken's bed then grasped a pale arm and pulled._

_"Let's go!  You promised we go to the forest today!" the raven-haired boy said._

_Warm red eyes finally focused on the boy who had just barely come out of toddlerhood.  With a huge yawn Folken finally got out of bed and let the tugging on his arm lead his out of his room to…_

"John?"

"Hm?" John mumbled as he scrunched his eyelids against the incoming sunlight.  He opened his sensitive eyes and tried to bring in a large quantity of air.  He was thwarted, however, in his attempt at a leonine yawn by a weight on top of him.  He blinked rapidly, clearing his eyes of the night's haze and looked down as he heard Sarah chuckle.

"She's not going to give up her new mattress easily now that she's had a whole night to sleep on it," Sarah said, a white smile dressing her words.

The young woman then saw him do something she had never seen him do before.  He gave Lindsey a brief, goofy grin that suited awkward adolescents.  But even before she could blink it was gone and replaced by a smaller, adult grin that was appropriate for men of his age.  Sarah wasn't sure what she had seen, but it felt of a younger day, one she wasn't privy to, at least not now.

Just as John sat up, holding Lindsey to keep her from falling, Brittany came running into the quiet room.

"Lindsey!" she yelled after stopping suddenly at the sight of her roommate.  She didn't stay immobile for long.

The five-year-old in John's arms woke up and rubbed her eyes with slightly chubby fists and saw Brittany a split second before the curly-haired brunette launched herself onto them.

Man and child were bowled over off the bed.  The girls landed safely on the unfortunate young man.  John softly groaned since the floor had found last night's bruises to bump up against and added some new discomfort to the back of his head.

Sarah rushed over and bent over the fallen trio.

"Are you guys all right?" she asked, very concerned.

She was somewhat relieved to see both girls smiling up at her and sitting up, but John's wincing face didn't eradicate all of her worries.

"Come off of John girls.  Why don't you two get ready for breakfast?"

"Alright!" answered the agreeable Brittany, Lindsey nodding with her.  They ran off to their room.

Sarah turned away from the girls and looked down at John with concern, both his legs still hooked over the bed.  She knelt down next to John and rested a hand gently on his chest.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, just a little bump on the head," he replied, but did not make any moves to get up.

"Let's get you back onto the bed," Sarah suggested.

John made an agreeing noise and slowly brought his legs down and pushed himself off the floor with Sarah's aid.  She sat him down on the edge of his bed where he was out of the shadow.  Sarah took a cursory glance at him and was drawn to a purple-blue bruise at the corner of his lower jaw and neck of his right side.

"Where did you get this?" she asked as she tilted his head up to get a closer look.  He grimaced and held his breath as she lightly traced it.

"I took a fall," he answered succinctly.

"When?  It wasn't there last night, was it?" she slightly colored and added quietly, "Oh yes… thank you."

His head released from Sarah's gentle grasp he turned to her and said, just as quietly, "You're welcome."

"But anyway, what happened?" Sarah asked, quickly recovering.

John sighed and came up with a, hopefully, believable excuse.

"After I put you in your room I fell down the stairs," he said, hoping the lie would take.

Sarah looked at him a little suspiciously but decided not to press him further and motioned for him to remove his shirt.  John complied, if a little unwillingly, and winced as he brought his arms up to pull off the shirt since it stretched his bruised side.

Sarah almost gasped at the sight of the angry, swollen bruises along his ribs under the mechanical arm.  She lightly skimmed the soft skin that covered hard muscles and pressed the unbruised parts before bringing her hands closer to the site of injury and repeating the process.  At the bruised parts John braced himself, winced, and sharply drew in some breath.

"I guess you didn't break anything because it you did, you'd be in much more pain even without the area being pressed against.  But you'll need something cold to bring down the swelling.  You must have fallen on your arm hard, which would explain the bruise on your jaw."

"The shoulder dome," John supplied, almost distractedly.

"Exactly.  And now, I suspect that the back of your head is hurting from your recent topple," Sarah concluded, sliding a hand from above his ear towards the back of his head.  John reached up with his left hand and stopped her from progressing any further by grasping her hand, his thumb softly pressing into her palm.

The young woman held her breath in… fear?  Anticipation?  Anxiety?  Perhaps all of these and several others.  He gently pressed her hand against his cheek and her fingers were slightly tickled by the morning stubble on his sleep-flushed face.  He closed his eyes briefly before opening them once more, red meeting blue as he released her hand and slid his own up her arm and pulled her down to sit next to him.  He let go of her arm and rested his hand on his lap.  Sarah glanced up at him, studying the stoic visage he presented while looking straight ahead.  His face softened into a small smile and warm eyes when he turned to look down on her.

Sarah looked down, embarrassed by his gaze and stuttered out, "Ah… Well… You'd better get dressed, A-Aunt Rena will need you t-to tell her how to operate the stove w-with the modifications you made."

She felt his body heat radiate off of him naturally, warming her side and making her blush because she enjoyed it.  Sarah chanced a look at his face and found that he was still looking at her with those same eyes and smile.  She quickly looked down again to avoid prolonged exposure, jumped up off the bed and hurriedly left the room, closing the door behind her.  She walked a few paces down the hall, noticing that Lindsey and Brittany's room was vacant, sleepwear strewn all over their made beds.  The doctor in training smiled.

'When they make their beds the room is messy, but when they clean the room their beds are unmade,' she thought to herself in a loving manner.

She knew she was acting very skittish around John whenever there was a warming moment like the recent one, but she couldn't seem to help her reaction.  Sarah associated with men all the time, part of living in a smallish community and having a job like hers.  She grew up like a tomboy, but after a certain age all her close friends her age became females.

'Oh well… Perhaps I'll grow out of it,' she thought hopefully.  She continued on walking down the hall.

John dressed quickly into his strong, but broken in work clothes, wondering if perhaps he had come on too strong.

'What am I doing?  Is it right of me to look for something within her, to try to possess this something, this thing I am looking for, when I am planning to leave the coming spring?'

He felt uneasy with himself, now knowing he was searching for two things.  The first and maybe the most obvious was his past, his memories… himself.  But the other… he wanted something from Sarah, for he felt she could provide it.  She could possibly give him something he felt he had been searching for before all this.  Perhaps more.

John vacated his room, closing the door behind him and walking at a brisk pace to catch up.

**Author's Notes:** Well, that's it for now until I've got more written up and typed out.  I want to get more romance in, but it's sooo embarrassing!  I'm 18 and graduated, never had a boyfriend (Yes, I've had friends who were guys, especially when I was little since I was a tomboy and there weren't many girls in my old neighborhood but I've never had a boyfriend.) although I have to figure out my relationship with one guy I've known since my freshman year, but I know that we are at the very least friends, which I am happy to know.  But that's been figured out since a year or two ago.  And I had my first kiss, and so far only, last month the night of Prom.  I don't have much experience, but I have read a lot of stories.  I think I've said this before, but this is my first attempt at romance.

I got a couple questions that I hope someone can answer: What does "WAFF" stand for and what does it mean?  Is it similar to "fluff"?  And what exactly is "fluff"?  I have already figured out what "lemon/sprite" and "lime" mean, don't ask!  I sorta figured out what "Mary-Sueism" is, but can someone clarify?  Some of these terms have been used in comments, others I already heard of and have either figured out or still wondering.  It would be very helpful if someone told me.  Thanks!

Kartos~ I guess this is another "character development" chapter then!

Teal Huskie~ Thank you, I had hoped for to be liked.  I certainly can see Van and Folken doing that when they were younger.  I just had a thought, when Folken and Van were babies and if their wings would have popped out, would the wings have been as fuzzy as little chicks or ducklings?  That would be sooo cute!

Otaku Pitcher~ Thank you!  You're always giving me compliments, you're spoiling me!  ^_^  Well, it's been so long and I have graduated, thanks.  I love reading a lot and unfortunately read more than I write.  I see names of authors and they become as familiar to me as any books I see in the store whether they're good or great writers.  I wish I could see my fic in the same way as an outsider and figure out for myself if it is something I would rate "good" or not.  But since I am the author, I can only try and trust the words of others in that part.  Thanks again!

ShadowShapeShifter~ Well, if they live in Juneau then they just have to worry about a lot of rain.  I never got to swim up to a glacier, but I see them and have picked up chunks of them at the Portage Glacier Visitor's Center an hour's drive from here.  I can't believe you swam in Alaskan waters!  Not even us Alaskans do that, unless you're part of the Polar Bear Club.  The only oceans I've swam in were down in Mexico and Hawaii.

Poco-poco~ I'm glad you liked it.  I think it will be several chapters before I have "John" fly again.  I don't think Folken likes being crashed into the ground much!  LOL!

Leiliiani~ Thank you very much!  I'm out of school now and just having a lazy summer.  The last days of school went by rather quickly and very much dream-like for me.  It was very odd.  I'll miss some of my teachers and am sad that one of them is retiring, but I was lucky that I got to be in his class before he left.  The last _months of school did drag on and I wondered "Can I graduate yet?" but it was the last days that went the fastest._

Rai Dorian~ Sorry, this chapter wasn't full of action.  *hides behind chair*  *peeks around*  Are you disappointed?  And no, I didn't get a scholarship for UW because I didn't apply there.  I got a WUE for Eastern Washington and Central Washington Universities.  I'll be going to EWU this fall.  I'm not much for comfort food.  I'm more of a "snack-on-chips-a-little" but other than that I just either watch TV, read on the computer, or sleep in late.  I haven't ever really gone on a formal diet either, but that's probably because these days I don't go and snack much.  Anyways, thanks for the suggestion!  I do love chocolate flavored ice cream though.  *Drool*  Rocky roooaaaad….Mmmmm…

Kae Noel~ Did you revise the next chapter of "Weeping Willow" yet?  I'll probably check anyways without you telling me anyways.  I think I noticed some of the differences, but it's been so long since I've read the original form it could be the I'm just not remembering it well.  In any case, go ahead and advertise, I love your fic!

Well, that looks like all of the reviews from last chapter.  Please leave comments on how I'm doing.  

Big thanks to ArtemisMoon who is my editor and the lovely author of "Easy as 1, 2, 3" an Inuyasha fanfic and several Rurouni Kenshin fanfics like "The Morning After" that's just hilarious!  She has written a parody for me on this fanfic that got me laughing almost to the point of falling out of my chair because of the suddenness of it.

Anyways, thanks again to all my readers who left a review!


	17. Chapter 15 Part 2

**AN: Okay, here's the second part of chapter 15.  Originally I was going to just attach it to the rest of the chapter, but I looked at today's date and then saw my publishing date for this story on ff.net and realized that today is this story's 2-year anniversary!  Wow.  Two years already.  Anyways, I'll write more at the bottom.**

**Chapter 15 Part 2**

In the kitchen John explained to Aunt Rena, and several interested others, the modifications in a comprehensive way.  He gave directions on the operation of the stove with the modifications and ended up pasting on temporary labels until they were memorized at which point they could be removed.

A few patients, very impressed by the demonstration, asked that John modify their stoves as well and in return for his services they would provide him with anything from food to wool as long as it was reasonable, and a settlement was agreed to.  When the patients were well enough to go home he would follow them so that he would know where they lived and return with the necessary materials.

John and Sarah rode to town on their own horses.  In front of Sarah sat Lindsey and in front of John sat Brittany.  Their small bodies were pressed against the adults in the confining saddle with the flaring pommel, but it wasn't too uncomfortable because the children were busy being distracted by their surroundings, riding on a horse, and the comforting security of the large warm bodies behind them.  The two girls hadn't been off of the Ravenelious property for a while so the two young adults had taken the opportunity to bring them along.

At the clothes shop John and Sarah retrieved their respective orders and left with smiles.  The five-year-olds skipped and then trotted after and around the adults, playing their curious made-up games, as children tend to do.  They did calm down enough to walk next to John and Sarah for certain intervals though, especially in congested streets.

Lindsey fisted her hand into John's sweater that hung down slightly past his hips.  After a moment the tall man noticed the slight tug on his clothes and slowly brought down his left hand, enveloping the small, soft hand in his own large, callused one.

The sandy-blonde glanced up, up to the almost blank face of the pale man who kept his eyes ahead to avoid collisions with other shoppers and strolling towns people in the packed dirt road.  Lindsey released his faded knitted sweater and instead held three of his long fingers.

"This way John," Sarah directed, tilting her head in the direction she meant since her hands were occupied by reins and Brittany.

John's eyes skimmed across the cold, gray sky and the faded paints of the buildings and noticed a warm looking bakery, busy with people entering and exiting.  A tiny brass bell tinkled at the top corner of the doorframe with the opening and closing of the door.

After tying their horses to a post the group of four approached the bakery, stepping up on the wooden sidewalk, and were embraced by delicious smells of freshly baked goods and warm air as the door opened.  They were announced by the tinkley chime that no one paid attention to due to the crowding of the bakery.  The slight chill of the day was driven away from their bodies as they entered the homey place.

There were a few tables with chairs near the front, which were occupied.  People sat there, or stood near them, and ate an assortment of pastries and bread while most others left the bakery with their purchases.

A clean-shaven, stocky man with a cheerful smile on his face greeted his customers from behind the counter.  He was not stocky from laziness, but rather from his line of work.  The baker had floured hands and sleeves rolled up past his elbows, showing the muscle on his thick arms.  His wife, Mrs. Sanell, took turns with Mr. Sanell at the counter.  They both had flushed cheeks from the ovens.  Mrs. Sanell's hair was tucked under a white cloth cap and a few short locks of dark brown hair had escaped, curling around the edges of the cap from the heat and moisture.  A legless bassinet sat at the end of the counter, against a wall.  It was out of the way, but within viewing range.  A couple of the customers stopped by there and cooed at the occupant.

Sarah bent down a little and put a hand on each girl's shoulder and said, "Why don't you two go find us a table and some chairs?  John and I will be with you girls in a little bit.  Okay?"

"Okay!" the girls said in unison.  Lindsey and Brittany held each other's hand and threaded around and through the forest of adult legs to do as Sarah asked.  As Sarah stood up straight, she kept her eyes on the young girls a moment more before she turned back to face the line.

The number of customers was lessening, as indicated by the few people in line after John and Sarah since it was getting later in the day.  The line moved up and Sarah looked ahead to see that there were only two people ahead of her.

The din of the bakery had quieted with the dwindling number of customers and this allowed several people to hear the warning hiccupy coughs an infant made before they started screaming.  Mrs. Sanell dropped what she was doing and rushed over to her baby before he started wailing.  The young woman bent over the bassinet on the counter and shushed her son as she picked him up.  Mr. Sanell glanced over at them, his face showing his love and pride a moment as he compensated for his sudden lack of help.  Fortunately for him there was no longer a mad rush.

Sarah asked John, "Do you see anything you like?  They have delicious sweet meat bread and cakes."

John looked at what was displayed under the counter and behind it in tall shelves.

After further deliberation, at which point they were at the counter, he said to the doctor's daughter, "Perhaps nothing too sweet.  Please order for me, I trust in your judgement."

Sarah nodded and turned to Mr. Sanell, "Two custard curls, three red buns, and two steamed meat breads please."

The baker nodded and wrapped the order in reusable rough cloth.  Sarah pulled out her money and started counting out coins and paused when dull clinking distracted her.  She looked up and saw John pulling back his hand from depositing the due amount of money on the wooden counter.

"No John, this is my treat-" Sarah was cut off by the tall, pale man.

"This is the least that I could do.  Just let me," John said softly, his deep red eyes penetrating Sarah's clear-river blue.

Sarah picked up the bound cloth that held their order and said, as she continued to look up into John's face, "Alright.  I'll let you this time, but don't get used to this.  Thank you."

Faint signs of amusement crossed John's face and he let a small chuckle escape his mouth.

They found the girls waiting almost impatiently at an empty table, both of them swinging their legs as they sat in chairs that were too tall for children their age.

Lindsey and Brittany brightened and stopped swinging their legs in boredom when they saw Sarah and John finally coming over.  They waited in anticipation for the pastries they knew Sarah had ordered for them.

The dark-haired woman set the cloth bundle down on the table and unwrapped it.  She handed each girl a custard curl and they responded with delighted thanks as they started happily consuming the treats.

"Remember not to tell Aunt Rena that you got to eat these before dinner," Sarah warned.

They nodded and continued devouring their bready victims.

Turning to her tall companion as she picked up a steamed meat bread, she said, "Steamed meat bread is my favorite non-sweet breaded treat.  Since you didn't want something sugared at the moment, why don't you give this a try?"

Sarah offered him the double fist sized, pale colored bread.  The outside looked waxy, but it was not.  It was warm and soft and when he bit into it he found that lightly salted and spiced tender meat in its center, mixed with little pieces of vegetables.

After catching his appreciative look Sarah ate her own warm steamed meat bread with slow, savory bites.

Regretfully the last bite came so Sarah popped the morsel into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed.

Looking at her companions sitting around the small table she got up and said, "I'll be back in a bit."

Sarah pushed her chair in and walked over to Mrs. Sanell who was busy nursing her son at a table that was set near the wall and counter.

"How's your belly where the pig bit you?" started Sarah, saying the traditional country greeting softly.

The brown-eyed woman looked up from her small son, giggled lightly and answered back bravely with humor, "Fine, but it was the baker that bit me."

Sarah laughed and blushed at the implication.  She quieted down before she would upset the baby.

"Why don't you come take a seat?" the baker's wife said, indicating the chair across from her.  Sarah pulled the chair a little nearer to Mrs. Sanell and sat.  She and Mrs. Sanell watched the baby as he suckled on his mother's emptying pale breast that was exposed since the shirt and apron had been pulled back to feed him.  He turned his lightly haired head away and released the nipple, showing that he was no longer hungry.  His quiet, proud mother readjusted her clothing and covered herself up before placing a clean rag on her shoulder and lifting her child up, lightly patting his back. 

Sarah observed all this in mild fascination, her face softened in wonderment, perhaps feeling the maternal glow of the young mother in front of her.

"Have you named him yet?" she asked after the baby had fallen asleep, his hands curled into loose fists at his mother's shoulder.

"Yes.  We named him Rondery the Second.  We call him Rondy," Mrs. Sanell replied, rubbing the baby's back through the soft, pale blue blanket he was wrapped in.

"How are you and Dery holding up?  Is Rondy crying a lot?"

"We're doing fine I suppose.  We could use more sleep but it's expected to have Rondy crying at night.  But he's been a pretty quiet baby.  He only cries if he's hungry of needs changing."

Sarah noticed for the first time the dark bags under the new mother's eyes.

"Avenira, it's time to close up," called out Mr. Sanell from the back.

"Yes Dery, I'll lock up the front then," Mrs. Sanell called back, facing towards the voice of her husband.

"Well," Sarah said cheerfully, "I guess that's our cue to head off.  But before we do, I want you to meet John."

The two women got up from the table and they walked together to the three others, all other customers having already left the bakery, leaving only the five in the room.

"John, this is Avenira Sanell, wife to the baker.  Mrs. Sanell this is John," Sarah paused, not sure how to introduce John.

"Hello Mrs. Sanell, I am John who worked at Mr. Peronel's," said John, picking up where Sarah left off.

"Nice to meet you," said the young mother with the slight bend of the head and knees to him.  She walked them to the bakery's entrance and said, "We'll see you all at the festival, right?  I'm going to see if I can beat Aunt Rena in the pie contest."

"Yes, we'll be there," answered Sarah.

They said their good-byes and Sarah, John, Brittany, and Lindsey retrieved their two horses and left for home under the grey sky.

**Author's Notes (Please read and write answers to some of these questions, although I know it's awfully long):**  This chapter has not been fully edited, but I posted it up like this so that I can celebrate the 2-year birthday without just having a so called chapter that only contains author's notes.  I'm 3 reviews away from having 100 reviews too!  YAY ME!  ^_^ 

                The thing is, this is all I have written at this moment!  I know what I want in the future of this story, or at least what in general, but I'm finding it hard to write.  I'm trying to chip at the writer's block that is keeping my hand from writing (for those of you who don't know I actually write this story by hand on paper.  I have used up the spiral note book this story was born on and am now using loose leaf lined paper.  The reason for this is because I've had one too many stories get deleted when my computer went on the fritz!)  I have scenes I've thought of that might happen.

                To make this story interesting I figure I need to put some conflict.  Folken/John will be battling himself soon enough when his memories return and there will be an effect of Sarah and others around him because of this for sure.  And as friendly as most people in small towns tend to be, there will always be a rotten apple.  I know it isn't realistic for me to write of a place where everybody's happy and content, so I'm trying to decide if I should throw in some bad apples and people in unfortunate situations (aside from some people having lost some family and friend in the war). 

                The reason why I put Folken out on the edge of Zaibach territory in a farming community is so that there won't be as many people able to recognize him and to let him start life anew.  Also, don't you think poor Folken has had enough bad things happen to him?  This story is far from over, fortunately or unfortunately.  

                I've had a couple worries.  I found out what Mary Sueism is (thanks Elihice for your help!) and although I have asked in a previous chapter if my characters were 3-D enough and have received, to my relief, positive answers I have to say that in a way some of my characters in this story is similar to a Mary Sue.  I don't think I can help that though since all these people I have made up are either different aspects of me, based on people I know, or a mish-mash of all the types of people I have ever met, read about, or seen.

                In the chapter before I have warned about my inexperience in the field of love and I am saying so again, but I don't think that should be too much of a worry (I guess I'm rather a worry wart about that) and I hope to kick up the romance soon enough.  Oh, what do you guys thing of "John" and Sarah's interaction so far?  I hope none of you guys complain that it's too slow (although I think I'm sorta thinking that too) but this is based on my feelings too.  Unlike some people I know, I'm not one to rush into a romancey thing in real life.

                What do you guys think of my descriptions?  In nature, in human feelings, in anything in this story.  I feel like I'm slipping, that I'm not bringing in life.  My goal as a writer is to make the readers see the details, to feel the warmth of the setting sun and all that, or at least be able to imagine the feel of the places.

                Another question I hope you guys answer: What are your feelings about my original characters?  Any favorites aside from "John"?  Anyone you guys might be interested in seeing more of? (I won't necessarily make that person appear more, only when needed, but if you guys suggest it I might since I have a lot of room…)

                For those of you who actually took the time to read all this babble, THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH!  I have so many worries and I want to please myself and my readers, it would be very helpful if you all gave a response to at least a couple of my questions.

And Now for the reviews!

Leiliiani- Hehe, it hasn't technically been a couple months, only one and a few days since my last update.  Sorry!  Oo.  Thanks for thinking the girls are adorable.  That was my aim and I hope you have a nice summer too!  And I hope you update your IY fanfic soon, it's sooo good!  I want to know what happens next!

ShadowShapeShifter- Hmmm, I do want a boyfriend some day, but I would hope it wouldn't affect my studies while I'm in college.  I'm also shy on initiating anything, we'll see.  My friend's cousin who I have met a couple times, including just recently when I went with my friend's family and went down to Homer for 5 days for 4thof July weekend, went to Juneau for college and apparently she went swimming down there, but most fishing on her boyfriend's boat.

Kae Noel- Thank you very much.  I hope to see an update on "Willow" soon!

Kartos- Wow, I'm glad you liked the dream.  I didn't expect such a reaction to it.  And believe me, I have thought about other dreams, I just haven't been inspired lately, but there should be some traumatic stuff when I have "John" regain his memories.

Elihice- Thank you sooo very much for telling me what those terms meant and for the website dictionary!  It was very helpful, but it will probably be a while before I dare use them to describe my fanfics, but at least I can figure out what other people's summaries mean now.

Rai Dorian- I snack, but when I get depressed I'm the type to not feel hungry.  But that doesn't happen often so I'm on the normal eater side.  I *LOVE* Chocolate!  I don't like plain chocolate though, it has to at least have some nuts in it, or something.  I don't think my personality is going to allow a "love life" to happen as soon as this summer, but we'll see.

I know there was one other person who had left a review for part 1 of this chapter, but it won't show up in the review section so I'm *very* sorry to whoever it was that I didn't write a reply to in this section!  Hopefully it'll show up as a couple more people write reviews for this story.

From July 17th through the 24th I will be gone.  I'm a volunteer for a wheelchair race that's going to happen.  It is a six day race and the longest wheelchair/hand pedaling race in the world right here in Alaska.  I am going to be a translator for a Japanese wheelchair racer and his 2-man crew and will be camping out along the trail from Fairbanks to Anchorage.  I don't recall the name of the race, it has a long name but it's something like "Sadler's Ultra Challenge" or something similar.

Anyways, please leave some answers to the questions I asked in my Author's Notes and anything else in the reviews!  Thanks!

-LSR_7


	18. Chapter 16

**AN:** It has been one year since I have last updated and I am very sorry. My excuses, as usual, will include school. I went through my freshman year at college and did okay, it could have been better grade-wise, but oh well. I'll write more at the bottom of this chapter. Thanks for your patience (or impatience?).

**Chapter 16**

The first of three days of the fall festival was greeted with much excitement and enthusiasm. Although the sky was mostly grey that morning it was showing some promise as it was bluing up in the distance.

The night before, most of the temporary booths had been set up in a freshly cut grain field that is going to lie fallow for the next couple years.

Old and grey wooden boards were nailed together as a frame for many of the booths to cover them with water resistant cloth, while others were just uncovered tables being used to display wares. The rest of the booths were actual shack-like constructions.

Despite the drab setting in weather and structures, the morning air was already filling with cheerful chatter along with animals baying, honking, or whatever else was their way of speech and the pluckings of stringed instruments along with a hesitant flute.

Most everyone was wearing warm clothing as dictated by the autumn season and the ever-changing pale, murky sky. Their somewhat fancy suits and dresses were to be saved for the last night of the festival.

Three adults walked abreast the path left open between the rows of booths on flattened hay stubble. John walked to Sarah's left, holding Lindsey as she slept against him with her arms going part way around his neck and fisting his sweater in her small hands. To Sarah's right Berin walked holding Brittany in a similar fashion.

The doctor was speaking.

"On the first day we have our food contests like preserves, jellies, pies, who grew the largest vegetables, etcetera. There are cloth crafts to be judged like needlework, knitting, dolls. Then there's sword fighting."

"Yes, Dravel signed me up," John interjected.

"And after all that there's dance practice to get ready for the third day."

John readjusted his hold on Lindsey and then looked up at the two women who looked very similar to each other, like two different ages of one person. Both had deep, black hair, gentle smile, and fine, skilled hands that knew work from a delicate touch to the toughness of setting a leg. Then there were differences like how Sarah was somewhat taller than her mother was, Berin's quiet, almost world-weary face, and how Sarah's hair was wavier and the doctor's hair was curlier.

"Have either of you entered in any of the contests?" asked John.

"Yes, I entered a small quilt, though it's more of a wall hanging really," replied Berin.

"Do you make many quilts?" asked John, his curiosity piqued since he knew little of Sarah's mother aside from her work as a doctor.

"I used to, when I had more time, but I'm very busy these days. The one I entered for this year's contest is the first bit of quilting I've done in these past two years," the doctor said with perhaps a hint of wistfulness coloring her otherwise conversational tone.

"Did you enter anything else?"

"No, although if I could I'd enter any number of patients who benefited from my stitch work," Berin quipped lightheartedly, making John and Sarah laugh softly. The slight disturbance caused Lindsey to shift in John's arms and nudge her sandy head against his broad chest in attempts to bury her head. The tall man looked down briefly to find that the little girl in his arms was resettled and asleep. He rubbed her back lightly with his large hand that almost spanned the width of it.

Brittany, on the other hand, had woken up from her nap and was rubbing her eyelids with the fingers of one hand while the other clutched the doctor's soft, clumpy-feeling, heavy knit sweater.

"Mama- Doct'r," Brittany corrected herself softly from her brief moment of disorientation caused by just waking up. Berin slightly tightened her arms around the usually hyper five-year-old as her heart clenched in its sad pain.

Small hands touched the aging woman's soft cheeks that showed signs of starting to sag.

"Are you sad?" Brittany asked in her innocence, her face near Berin's, the two of them almost touching foreheads.

Sarah's mother smiled for the child's benefit and said, "No, I'm happy to be holding such a sweet little child."

The doctor moved her head forward and kissed the curly-haired girl's chubby cheek. Brittany giggled and took her hands off of Berin's cheeks.

Had not anyone known at least the two children or two women the group of five might have been mistaken as wife, husband, their two daughters and the girls' grandmother.

When the moment had faded John asked Sarah if she had entered anything into any of the contests.

"No, I'm afraid not. If I could, I would paint a sunset or draw an animal, but my attempts are really sad," Sarah answered, emphasizing the "really" with a laugh. "I just can't seem to put down on paper, or canvas, what I see in my head. It's so frustrating so I don't try much anymore."

They approached the large barn where the dance practice and last day dance was going to be held. All sorts of crafts, foods, and drinks were set up along one side of the building, stretching into a corner and turning along the back in displays.

At the table end facing the entrance a large sign announced each of the three days' events that had to do with the barn's display tables. Other events were posted outside on the barn wall.

"Today's foods are getting judged. After the judges have tasted everything and are satisfied with their notes and ballots everyone else is free to eat what's left so it won't go to waste. You have to be fast, though, or else you might miss the good stuff," Sarah explained to John.

He nodded in acknowledgement. Lindsey and Brittany were on their own feet and after having spotted other children, had run off to play with them on what was to be the dance floor later.

A muscle on Johns jaw jumped as he slightly clenched his teeth. The change in weather seemed to have some sort of mystical control over the phantom pain. The episodes were few since he had been keeping it at bay by having a regular exercise program, but the weather seems to have some sort of mystical control over the phantom pain. He glanced around to see if anyone noticed and felt some relief when he found that everyone was occupied.

When the sun came close to its zenith, a crier walked through the festival grounds announcing that the sword fighting competition would begin soon and for all participants to go to the south-eastern corner of the field.

John headed over with Sarah and Berin, while Lindsey and Brittany were left playing with other children in the barn being supervised by others. Sarah and Berin, along with another healer, were usually present at the swordfights to provide emergency medical care since often times someone got injured despite armor and blunted swords.

The three came upon a rough-hewn fence that was thrown together quickly to make a small arena and some benches surrounded the arena; a few people were already seated. John saw Dravel speaking with a man he had met once before. He recalled the man's name to be Linz Nel. Linz was a student of Dravel who had become a sword fighting instructor just a few years ago and assisted Dravel from time to time.

A crowd of Dravel's and Linz's students as well as others who knew the way of the sword soon gathered around Dravel.

"We have four divisions," started the sword master in a clear voice that came from his barrel chest, "The first is children, then adult novice, adult open, and then adult advanced. For those of you who haven't signed up please go to Linz over there," he pointed to the wiry man and continued, "All contestants are required to wear armor, which we will provide. The only ones who are exempt from this rule are those in the adult advanced where it is up to the contestant to wear armor or not."

The reasoning behind the allowance of no armor in the adult advanced was that only high level swordsmen would be permitted to compete and therefore they knew the risks and would be at such a level that all their movements would be controlled enough to not inflict serious damage to vital areas of their opponents. Of course, there were those who still came out of the arena with broken bones, and once in a great while someone would die from resulting injuries.

Drok Dravel walked over to the tall, pale man. John and Dravel's eyes locked when John turned his head away from spotting the medic's tent on the other side of the sword fighting arena.

"John, I want you in the advanced division," the sun darkened man said, right to the point.

John lifted his pale eyebrows in quiet surprise and answered, "You've been teaching me for only a couple months."

The objection sounded more like a statement.

"Yes, but you already had the skill before I got you. You must have been an accomplished swordsman, you fight to a similar style of Balgus of Fanelia, one of the Great Sword Masters of Gaea" Dravel pressed. His posture was set like that of a stone wall.

'Balgus…'

The aqua-haired man dipped his head in assent, letting the sword master make his way to Linz and the listings.

An audience was gathering on the benches and around the fences of the arena. Boys and girls climbed the fence posts to secure a good vantage point before adult legs could block their passage. Some children who were not entered had sticks and were mimicking the awaited swordfights.

The fighting began with the children, the younger ones using wooden swords since the metal ones were still too heavy for them.

The youngest competitors of the children's group were each given first place with a wink from Dravel who said, "Since all of you did such a good job we couldn't decide who won, so all of you did."

The young children smiled in delight while the adults looked knowingly at each other.

The older children's group was a bit more serious. Clangs and cries filled the air with the cheering of the crowd.

Dravel, Linz, and a third swordsman judged the matches inside the arena, keeping a triangular shape around the competitors in an attempt to have each judge able to see the fight from a different angle and for at least two judges to be able to see hits, if not all three. In the children's division there were only three strikes that could count as a point: a strike to the top of the head, the forearms, and the stomach. The higher divisions had a fourth strike: a stab to the throat. The stab was the most dangerous of moves because a miscalculation could cause a severe injury, therefore children and beginners were forbidden to use the technique. There were no expressed rules about attacking someone whose back was turned to their opponent once the match was started, although from country to country it could differ as could the fighting style.

More people appeared to surround the arena when it came closer to the time of the upper divisions.

Sarah and the healer, Lorel Adtou (known fondly as "Addy") had already assisted and treated a couple competitors. Currently they were working on a young man who had fallen back onto his outstretched hand when avoiding a sword swinging at his stomach. The resulting impact had given him a greenstick fracture in his forearm. The ulna was bent and the radius had completely broken.

"Addy," Sarah said with a concerned look wrinkling her brow as she set up a splint, "could you set his arm?"

The healer, who was just getting into his thirties, quirked a corner of his mouth, his starburst hazel eyes glancing up a moment from the patient's arm to the young woman's face. Addy said in his light voice, "I could, but you can't avoid setting bones if you want to become a doctor. The next broken bone I'll let you do."

Sarah grimaced, but then held down their patient's arm against the hard bed he lay on as Addy directed two men to hold the swordfighter down by his legs and shoulders. Setting the broken bones back to their original shape was going to be very painful to say the least.

John watched the matches, studying the technique executed by those in the adult open. The open let novices compete as well as advanced. This allowed the advanced swordsmen to warm-up and for the braver novices to experience a fight against a higher level opponent from which they, hopefully, will glean important information from to add to their own fighting like proper stances and attack styles.

John saw Berin walking to the medic's tent toting a wicker basket.

"Sarah, Addy. Here's lunch, go take a break," the doctor said to her daughter and colleague upon entering the canvas tent. Berin set the basket down and pulled out small loaves of bread, cheeses, meat, and sandwich vegetables. Sarah tried to ignore the meat and made herself a cheese and vegetable sandwich, her stomach a bit queasy at the thought of eating meat right after dealing with some blood and setting bones. She scooped fresh water out of a barrel into a mug and headed out for her break and to watch the fighting more closely.

The wavy-haired woman left the shade of the tent into what would probably be one of the last few warm days before the fingers of winter would run through the land.

Sarah saw John warming up with his blunted sword, the sword slicing the air in front of him, seeming to glide through instead of being swung down like how most of the children and some novice adults seem to do. She walked to him, weaving her way around people who were watching the current competitors in the arena.

John caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and finished his warm-up as Sarah reached him. She smiled at him and then noticed the misting of sweat on his forehead, his cheeks already colored slightly from his warm-up under the bright sun.

"Do you want some of my sandwich or water?" Sarah offered.

"Thank you, I think I'll have just the water. I'm not very hungry right now," John answered, gripping the sword to point down with one hand as he reached out with the other for the moderately large mug. He drank the cool water, glad that Sarah had come and offered it to him. The doctor-in-training saw how he started sipping at it in preparation of handing her share back. She worried that he might suffer dehydration so she said, "Go ahead and drink the rest. I can get more water at the tent later."

John didn't argue with her, knowing it was useless after seeing that certain look of concern on her face now familiar to him. He thanked her, a part of him quite happy that she noticed his needs.

"Are you going up soon?"

John looked up from his preoccupation with his thoughts and water. He answered, "Yes, after the advanced starts."

Sarah was slightly startled. She hadn't been sure what division he would be placed in, although she had thought it likely that he would be in the advanced class after seeing him fight Dravel a couple times. This also worried her since the advanced swordsmen would have more power behind their swords… she had no wish to see him in the medic's tent with broken bones.

"Are you nervous?" she asked, perhaps projecting her own nervousness onto the young man.

John considered the question and answered with confidence, "No. I don't feel nervous. Whatever happens will. Nerves will only interfere with my concentration," seeing her worry, he added with a soft smile for her benefit, "Don't worry, I'll be careful for you."

Sarah looked to the side a moment, hoping her face didn't betray the flush of warmth she felt from his gentle smile. John handed her the empty mug, thanking her again.

They heard the cheering of the crowd escalate, signaling another ended match. The audience quieted and the two heard Dravel announce, "That is the end of the adults open. We will start the advanced division as soon as we set up the score board."

The score board Dravel mentioned had many slats on it to place strips of paper with competitors' names written on them. People were paired up randomly, and the winners of each round would then again be paired up with the other winners until there was only one winner. The resulting pattern on the board would look like a sideways pyramid, the first round with every participant listed in a column on the left and the one paper with the overall winner at the very right of the board.

Dravel was again walking to the center of the arena after readying the score board, some people went to look at it to see who they were matched up against. The sword master spoke in an amplified voice to be heard over the excited audience, "The advanced matches will start shortly. The rules are different for this division than the previous three classes. It is no longer a two point match, each match will not be timed for three minutes but for ten minutes maximum. Whoever can disarm their opponent first will automatically win, but if neither is disarmed after ten minutes we will tally up the correctly executed hits. Do the contestants understand?"

Some of the men nodded while the others stayed still. Nobody shook their head "no".

"Alright, we can begin!"

John and Sarah watched a match from near the fence. Even after having watched several swordfights over the years Sarah still couldn't get over the noise. The intensity of the battle cries and the sharp clang of metal on metal pierced her ears. Sometimes it seemed as thought the swords sang as they sliced the air, a cry from another world singing for the taste of blood.

The thought chilled Sarah and made her look more closely at the contestants. She knew a few of them and the others were familiar acquaintances. Most of these swordsmen had served the Zaibach military at one time or another. The younger ones had served in the recent war, and some of them were fortunate because they hadn't been placed on the frontlines, which had been a death sentence to most. The other survivors who had served closer to the action than they wanted had come back changed. Cheery young men came back hardened, their eyes no longer youthful. The change became more evident at the taverns that seemed to be fuller than they were before the Great War and Zaibach's defeat.

Sarah jerked her head up to the arena as a fight ended with a clang, a sword flying out of its owner's hands.

**AN:** This is the third anniversary of this story. Its actual birthday is June 29, 2001, but I first posted this up on July 11, 2001

What have I been doing since the last update? Well as I had mentioned in the author's note at the end of the last chapter I helped out at a wheelchair race that is the longest hand-cycle and wheelchair race in the world. It was roughly 260 miles and took place in Alaska, my home state. I translated for the Japanese racer, his wife, and his trainer. It was really fun, but hard work. I also was helping another racer by being his race crew. A team is 3 people: the racer, the driver, and the person who hands out drinks or power bars/gels to their racer. All the volunteers camped out in tents and the racers got motel rooms. I became pretty good friends with Hiro-san, the trainer, who was nice enough to send me RK manga from Japan after he went back home. We send each other e-mails from time to time. So I advise you guys to find a Japanese friend so you can get hooked up with anime and manga, unless you can go to Japan yourself! LOL!

I know this chapter wasn't that exciting, but the next one I'll have John fighting so I hope that'll perk you guys up. Speaking of which when I went to college I took karate as a PE class throughout the year and then joined the kendo club that started up about the last half of the school year. So now I know how to fight some from hand-to-hand to Japanese sword fighting. I believe this will improve my chances at writing realistic fight scenes. Of course I'm still a beginner in any case since I haven't written much in fight scenes or have done much fighting myself.

I have been busy with college, especially since it was my first year, I found some anime junkies to be friends with. I got Japanese roommates and was able to maintain my Japanese speaking skills and become friends with so many Japanese exchange students and cried hard with them when they had to go back to Japan and then I had to go back home. But I have good memories with them and I hope I'll see them again in the future.

This story is mostly focused on "John" and Sarah as you can see. I fear that Berin is rather a 2-D character, she just appears once in a while so her character isn't as developed as it could be, or so I feel. She'll show up some more and hopefully she'll feel more developed as time goes.

**ATTENTION:** I have sent out an e-mail to 4 people and only one of them has replied so far. I am asking for some people to re-read and critique my writing in detail from chapter to chapter. I would like to know what things stand out from good details to weird grammar. Has my writing improved, stayed the same, worsened, or does my writing have its ups and downs? Please peer edit this story and e-mail it to me. won't let me put up my e-mail, so please look it up on my bio. The ones that are most helpful and detailed ("It's all good" is neither detailed nor helpful) will be sent a preview of a future chapter.

**And now for my reviewers…**

Congratulations! **Elihice** is my 100th reviewer! But it's confusing. You see it says there are 107 reviews, but in actuality there is 106. Last year I got one of those review alerts sent to my e-mail to let me know that somebody reviewed my story, but when I checked my stats to see if the review showed up at it wasn't there because it was just after one of those times that goes down because they had to fix something. The review count thing still keeps record of the review that got deleted or whatever. So it's my ghost review. I was so disappointed. So if you actually count the reviews Elihice would be 99th, but in actuality counting the ghost review she would be the 100th. Sorry for my long explanation. So Elihice, if you're reading this, the only thing I can do besides thanking you for being my 100th I can offer to draw you something and scan and send it to you. Check out my pages on Elfwood to see if you like my style and make a request (the only anime I can somewhat draw is Inuyasha as can be witnessed by my lovely editor ArtemisMoon who has Inuyasha, RK, and Esca fanfics, check her stories out!).

This is the Fantasy Art one:

http: elfwood. lysator. liu.se/ loth/l/s/ lsr7/lsr7. html

and this is the Fan Art one:

http: elfwood. lysator. liu.se/ fanq/l/s/ lsr8/lsr8. html

I put some spaces in the addresses so hopefully they showed up.

**Kae Noel**- Hey Kae, your story "Willow" hasn't been updated just as long as mine hasn't! I like your new Esca story that you have one chapter up of. I'll be looking forward to the update of either one. Well as for checking out life, I've had one year of it and I'm finally writing again… I wonder if the kids in my story are realistic, perhaps they should be more hyper, or talk different? Oh well, thanks for your review!

**Rai Dorian**- Sorry for not sending the chapters of "Nail" like I said I would for your website. Life got me busy… do you still want me to send you chapters? As for Mary-Sues… I guess I know that term better now, although is it a Mary-Sue if I like to put myself in Sarah's place? It would be quite yummy to see Folken half-naked (or more) since I would be his doctor, hehehe sees everyone staring at her Ehe, okay so maybe I won't do that… LOL! So you live in Maine? Wow, clear across to the other side of the US waves from Alaska.

**Elihice**- Hi again! So what do you think of my offer? Anyways, yes, Sarah's mother is a character I probably use the most aside from John and Sarah (although I wonder if Lindsey and Brittany actually make their way into my story more than Berin. Those kids love sneaking into things hears a crash in the kitchen Lindsey? Brittany?! Are you guys eating cookies?!! runs off

Yeah, the "crystalline blue eyes" does get used a lot. I changed it to something else on my computer so that when I re-edit everything I will post a better version on someday after the whole story is finished. I changed it to something along the lines of water funning over glass or something.

**ShadowShapeShifter**- Well, I'll certainly be putting the emotional/angst stuff in the chapter where Folken recovers his memory. I already wrote out a big chunk of that. It's perhaps not as angsty as it should be. I have time to change it since it won't show up for a few more chapters. We'll see how it goes.

**Jessica**- Thank you very much for answering my questions! Yes, what you said did help me some. And the part about the "bad apple" I have outlined an incident where part of what you have suggested will happen since I've been thinking along the same lines. I hope the amount of details in this chapter doesn't disappoint you, I find it dull. Hopefully I'll get back into writing shape and will be as detailed as I was last year.

**KlutzyGirl**- Thank you very much for reviewing, sorry that I took a year in updating.

**Poco-poco**- Thank you very much for your review and I'm sorry to you and everyone else for not updating more.

A special thanks to ArtemisMoon for being a great editor and for sticking with me for such a long time!

Bye for now.

-LSR7


	19. Chapter 17

**AN: **Haha! I actually updated again before another year went by!

**Chapter 17**

John was in the arena facing a brown-haired man who may have been a couple years older than himself. They drew their swords after they stepped closer to each other and brought them to cross ends. John shifted his feet into position, the dirt gritting against the soles of his boots. His opponent also shifted, his earthy eyes looking into red ones as they shifted into the right distance, not too close or too far apart.

"Begin!"

At Dravel's command, the two men in the center of the arena tensed briefly, propelled into action. Suddenly they passed each other before ending up face to face yet again, standing where the other had been only a moment before. John was no longer looking directly into his opponents eyes, though that is what it appeared like to most of the spectators. He was almost looking past the man in front of him, enabling John to see the whole man and his sword range.

Both had their swords leveled at the other, hands gripping loosely at their leather hilts. They cried out to each other with sounds from deep within their being, forcing their spirit upon each other, trying to weaken the other's resolve. They lifted their swords quickly, seeming to fall towards each other as they pushed themselves with their back leg.

John saw the man's sword starting to swing down, aimed at his head, while his own sword was aiming for the earth-eyed man's arm.

'Too late…'

Their swords clashed, neither getting the hit they had aimed for and pushing against each other before jumping away. As soon as John's back foot touched the ground he pushed himself forward again, driving his spirit outward in the form of a yell and freezing his opponent a split second, long enough for the pale man to jab his sword past the raised arms of the man who was planning to try for another head blow. Everything froze, the tip of a shining sword just a finger's breadth away from a sweaty throat.

"Stop! Winner: John!"

John withdrew his sword and the other man slowly lowered his as well. They crossed swords again then backed away from each other. The man twitched a nervous smile at the victor, letting him know there were no hard feelings from losing. He noticed the cheers of the crowd.

The match had been short, but John already felt sweaty. This was only the first round and he needed a way to keep cool. Round after round the competitors were whittled down until only the best four were left. John had lasted all the matches and in between he had found refuge in the shade of the medics tent. He and others drank from the barrels provided and Sarah kept looking him over, assuring herself that he only had superficial wounds. He had a forming bruise from a glancing blow to his head and it was promising to be big, but it wasn't serious. Berin had confirmed that he had no concussion after Sarah checked him once.

John held a cold, wet rag to his head, but he put it down on a table when he was called up to face against what might possibly be his last opponent. His hair was damp and messy where he had held the rag, locks of it clinging together resembling steel. He had to sweep it away from his face, being quite long now.

'Maybe I should have had my hair cut,' John thought in passing.

John was declared victor once again. His second to last match was grueling. His opponent was more talented and experienced than his previous ones.

Sarah looked on, thinking that ten minutes for a match was insanity. Watching the three minute matches felt like an eternity, but the ten minutes made her appreciate the amount of stamina involved in the game, if not the likelihood of more injuries. She worried that someone would die from sheer exhaustion.

John limped his way back to the medics tent breathing hard, while the cheer of the crowd was almost loud enough to drown out thoughts. A few minutes passed and they quieted down as another match was set up to determine who would fight the last one against John.

Yidirik was with Sarah to welcome him back.

"'Ey, Johnny! Yer a good fighter! Could you give me some of yer female admirers?" the redhead asked with a wink. John didn't get what Yidirik was referring to until he turned around and noticed several women who had gathered near the tent and were not so subtly staring at him. He felt a bit awkward with so many eyes following him. He wasn't sure if some of the stares he received from both males and females were because of his skill, or because his arm, although Sarah knew that some of the women, both young and old, saw his attractiveness.

Sarah pulled him into the tent and sat him down on a narrow bed.

"Did you get hit in the leg? I tried watching, but you all move so fast when you're fighting that I must have missed the hit," Sarah admitted, worried about the various injuries John had sustained, including the newly acquired limp.

Yidirik was standing behind Sarah, his arms crossed over his chest. His generally cheerful freckled face contained a more subdued half-smile, his eyes studying his normally pale friend who had reddened under the sun.

"Y'r'all right, right?" Yidirik asked.

John looked up from Sarah and answered, "Yes, I just got hit in the hip. I'll be fine after a short rest, it's nothing serious."

Sarah opened her mouth, ready to disagree, but a voice stopped her, "Sarah, stop being a worrywart, you'll get all your wrinkles in one day."

They looked to the entrance to see Addy.

"But Addy-" Sarah began, again interrupted by the healer.

"No need to worry. I'm sure you can tell that he's not seriously harmed. You're experienced enough by now to tell that without me having to tell you."

Sarah closed her mouth and looked down at her shoes. Berin saw the whole exchange from the entrance of the tent and smiled.

'Sarah certainly loves John,' she thought.

Linz announced that there would be an hour break before the final round; Dravel's voice had gotten hoarse.

John took his boots off and laid back on the bed in the tent, once in a while swatting away a fly. Berin had sent Sarah to check on the girls, figuring that her daughter needed something constructive to do rather than worrying about John and trying the patience of Addy, one of the most patient people Berin had ever met.

John noticed the slight drop in the heat. It wasn't just the shade of the canvas tent, since it could get quite stuffy and hot if it was closed, but there was a slight, inviting breeze that drifted every now and again and the sun had dropped down some, not being as intense. And of course he wasn't sweating out in a swordfight. The young man's clothing stuck to him, and his sweat, along with dust, had darkened his shirt and cooled down. His body ached and his skin stung, all this, but he remained laying still on the stiff bed, not wanting to put in any effort to relieve his aches and pains, or to remove the uncomfortable, sticky clothes.

"John?" Berin called softly.

"Yes?" he answered, lifting his hurting head.

"Why don't you take that shirt off, and I'll go rinse it out. Go ahead and wipe yourself with this," the doctor said, tossing him a warm, damp cloth.

He removed his shirt sitting up and handed it to the waiting Berin. John wiped the grime off his face and upper body, feeling better, although he still ached.

Berin came back, wiping her hands on a small towel and said, "I wrung out your shirt and I'm letting the sun dry the rest out. It might still be damp when you put it on again, but at least it will be somewhat cleaner."

"Thank you very much, it's fine if it's still damp. I'll just sweat again, anyway," replied John.

"How's your sunburn? Your pale skin doesn't really tan."

John looked ruefully at his reddened forearm and felt the sting. Had he the choice, he believed he would have spent most of his time inside, or perhaps in the woods where the trees would filter harsh sunlight into a cool green. Little did he know that that was exactly what he had done in his youth.

"Lucky for you I'm the local herbalist."

John and Berin observed the lithe form of Addy step into the tent. He had left a while ago on some errand or other. Some of his light brown hair had escaped the small ponytail tied at his neck, and a piece of moss was caught in a lock of hair that was threatening to join the loose ones.

"I was just commenting on Johns sunburns. It looks like you've already thought about it," said Berin, motioning to the large, broad light green and grey-fuzzed leaves Addy was pulling out of a sack.

When John saw the leaves and how the healer was preparing them by stripping away the middle vein of the leaves and mashing them in a bowl with a little water he thought he recognized the plant, even recalling the name of it.

'Love leaves.'

John wasn't sure how he knew the plant since he couldn't remember seeing it before.

"I'll only put a little on you now since you'll be going out in the sun again for who knows how long. Use the rest later. Keep the leaves, Berin, and Sarah can fix a fresh mash for you later if this mash gets old," instructed the healer.

John nodded, although he believed he could prepare the proper mash for himself. He couldn't explain it, but he felt like he knew a lot about plants, the preparation of the love leaves for his sunburn unlocking his hidden knowledge of herbs.

The soothing mash was being applied to John's reddened arm and neck when he saw Sarah, Brittany, and Lindsey walking to the tent, all three carrying cloth-wrapped bundles. He was noticed how the sun had a dazzling effect on Sarah's appearance (although he may have thought the same even if he saw her by the pale light of the moons). The sunlight picked out blue along with some red highlights shining off of the black waves of her hair.

John's thoughts were interrupted when he was smacked on the head. He looked up with mild annoyance to see Addy pulling his hand back from the strike.

"Don't stare with your mouth gaping open like that, it's rude," the healer said, something in his hardened eyes suggested a challenge to John. But a moment later Addy grinned, erasing any trace of whatever there had been in his eyes.

"Mr. John!"

John turned to look out again and saw Brittany running towards him, Lindsey close behind and Sarah still walking, smiling at them.

Brittany and Lindsey had the good sense to put their bundles down at the foot of the bed before they grabbed John's long legs and tried to scramble onto his lap. He raised his left arm up, trying to avoid getting any of the messy mash on the children.

"Girls! Don't bother John right now, he's tired and we're treating his sunburns," Berin reprimanded.

Lindsey looked stricken, being sensitive, and Brittany looked like she was about to whine, not seeing what was wrong with just sitting in his lap. It wasn't like they were going to make him play with them.

"It's okay, Doctor," said John, bringing his metal arm around to hold Lindsey and Brittany on his lap, preventing them from reluctantly sliding off in obedience of Berin's orders.

"Girls, say thank you to John for letting you both sit on his lap."

"Thank you, Mr. John!" the girls chorused.

Sarah was in the tent and unwrapped the bundles she and the little girls had brought. They held smaller bundles containing desserts.

"They finished the food contests during the sword fighting. We got to take some of the leftover food," Sarah supplied, "Aunt Rena won again. She had entered her pie. Remember that new recipe she was experimenting with?"

Berin and John nodded, having been subjected to taste testing Aunt Rena's cooking for the fall festival's contest along with Sarah. Everything had tasted great to them, but it took several tries and subtle changes before the elderly woman was content with the recipe. The younger adults were sure they had gained some weight from Aunt Rena's delicious "experiments" and had she heard their thoughts she would have laughed and then earnestly told them that it was healthy for them to have some pudge.

John felt small fingers tracing the lines of a couple scars.

"Does this hurt?" asked Lindsey, gingerly touching the scar so close to his heart. She looked up at him, worried.

"Not anymore, it's all better now," John replied gently, holding in his laugh from the ticklish touch of Brittany who was poking around one of the straps that was connected to his chest and held his metal arm in place.

"Did Sarah kiss it and make it better?" Lindsey asked innocently.

Sarah and John were quick to blush, John's face burning from more than what the sun had given him. The other two adults in the tent were laughing, or rather Addy was laughing while Berin tried to suppress hers from escaping by placing her hand over her mouth. Lindsey and Brittany looked confused, wondering why the doctor and healer were laughing while Ms. Sarah and Mr. John got so red.

"Um, no Lindsey. I didn't, uh, kiss it and make it better," Sarah explained, regaining control of her voice, "It healed with Mother's stitches."

"Oh."

**AN:** A very special thanks to ArtemisMoon who postponed her stories so that she could edit mine. Sorry to her readers bows low I too read her stories and I'm sorry if I'm the cause of her delay in turning out another great chapter! Please don't hurt me! Hides behind computer chair

Also thanks go out to Poco-poco and KlutzyGirl for reading and reviewing my story right away after I posted up the new chapter.

**Poco-poco****-** I hope this chapter satisfied your sword fighting scene needs! There will be another, much longer one in the next chapter.

**KlutzyGirl****-** Scary, isn't it? I know several stories and authors who just leave their stories hanging and ,sometimes, never finishing them. I have a couple Star Trek stories on that I haven't updated in forever since I'm focusing on this one.

**ArtemisMoon****-** Yes, I have been going at this story for a while. I wonder who holds the record on for the story that took the longest to finish? Also, THANK YOU SO MUCH! I couldn't have gotten this far without you sticking with me as well this long and editing for me.


	20. Chapter 18

**AN: This chapter has NOT been edited yet! I'll put up an edited version later, just thought some of you would like to see and update.**

**Chapter 18**

Everyone ate the pieces of various desserts Sarah had brought while she told them the results of the different divisions of the food contests.

"…and Aunt Rena should be here soon."

"Ten more minutes before the final match begins."

The people in the medics tent looked up to see the third judge, a swordsman known as Ren. The man left as soon as he was sure John had heard him.

Sarah helped John remove the love leaves' (more commonly known as "Burdock" to most in the healing profession) mash from his skin and Berin brought his mostly dried shirt.

"How's your leg?" Sarah asked, remembering her worries before she was sent to check on Brittany and Lindsey.

John stood up, putting pressure on his leg that he had favored almost an hour ago and said, "It's okay now. I probably have a large bruise on my hip, but it shouldn't affect me too much."

The young woman nodded. At that moment Aunt Rena showed up, a petite woman with light brown hair following close behind her.

Sarah noticed the top of the lady's head over Aunt Rena's shoulder and then saw the familiar triangular scar on the forehead.

"Nanaii!" Sarah called out, a smile stretching her face. She ran around the grandmotherly woman to come face to face with her long time friend.

Startling copper brown eyes smiled back at Sarah as the two women embraced, having not seen each other the whole summer.

"Sarah, it's so good to see you," the diminutive woman said after the two had released each other from an almost crushing hold. Nanaii looked up at Sarah, her head not quite reaching the level of the taller woman's shoulders.

"I saw Aunt Rena taking her pie pan from the display and thought she might know where you were. I should have remembered that you would probably be here to help your mother," Nanaii said, pushing some of her shoulder length hair behind her ear with her fingers.

"You barely come back in time for the festival most years, it's no wonder you wouldn't know where I am," Sarah replied, smiling at her dear friend.

"Will the finalists please come to the arena?" Dravel commanded, his voice back full force and booming over the crowd.

"Sarah, I need to go now," John said, having leaned down to whisper in her ear. His whisper tickled her, his breath going over her ear. In her excitement at seeing Nanaii she hadn't paid attention to anyone else.

She flushed, half in embarrassment at forgetting her surroundings and not introducing Nanaii to John. The other half of her bemused feelings was from the almost intimate way John had whispered into her ear.

"I'm sorry, I'll introduce you to each other properly after the sword match," Sarah stumbled out, then changing her tone to slight worry, "John, be careful and good luck!"

The pale man smiled at her, his red eyes softened only for her. He turned as he waved at the group in front of the medics tent and then threaded across the packed soil of the fallow field and made his way to the entrance of the arena.

Sarah and everybody else walked to the ranch-style wooden fence, trying to get a good view of the coming fight. Sarah turned to her friend and told Nanaii about John. Nanaii nodded and then said, "Yes, Kancia told me about him. Although we know how she likes to embellish things."

The two young women smirked at each other, Kancia's tales were almost a long standing joke between Nanaii and Sarah. They knew their red-haired friend had no malicious intent with the half-truths in her stories, she only meant for her stories to be more exciting.

"Who is John going against?" Aunt Rena asked suddenly, squinting, trying to read the board.

Sarah turned her head a bit and read, "Norin Munlou. He was the champion last year. But I don't like him," she added, "he rubbed that fact in every other competitors' faces. He's an arrogant jerk."

There was more to it than his behavior in last year's competition. Although she hadn't told anyone, Norin had picked on her during their years in elementary school. He probably had forgotten that he had, as was often the case with bullies, it was only their victims who remembered the taunts and whatever else.

Sarah had forgiven him since it had seemed he had matured, but his behavior last year elicited her previous dislike of him.

John entered the arena as his opponent did, entering from another entrance. The three judges, Linz, Dravel, and Ren, made their triangle around the two competitors, keeping a safe distance away. Dravel was centered as if on a horizontal line going between John and Norin, Ren and Linz took their places to make an equilateral triangle.

John studied Norin as they stepped closer to each other to cross swords. The man looked to be of similar age as himself, his black hair short, although the hair in font was a bit long, giving a rakish air. Dark blue eyes looked back at him, Norin's mouth in a confident smirk under an aristocratic nose. Smiling during a match was considered rude since competitors were expected to be serious, but there was no penalty as it was more of a practiced courtesy rather than a written rule.

John and Norin created quite a contrast, the audience noticed from the light complexion of the serious, tall metal-armed man to the dark, slightly shorter, arrogantly smirking man.

Their blades were slightly crossed, barely touching. Calloused hands gripped leather hilts that they kept centered to their bodies with their left hands, their right slightly more relaxed against the cross-guards. Each man had the tip of their sword pointed at the other's throat as they slid their feet into position. John was already refocusing his eyes to see more than just his opponent's cold eyes.

Dravel had his arms raised, waiting for the crowd to hush. He dropped his arms when he barked out, "Begin!"

Swords clashed, Norin had struck out his sword like a snake, great power coiled almost deceptively in the almost lithe figure. John had caught the twitch, his sword almost vertical to protect himself. The two men were pushing their swords and knuckles against the other. They broke apart, the dark-haired man striking towards John's torso as he retreated.

Fortunately for the tall, pale man he had pushed himself back quick enough, stirring up dust.

The two circled, inching closer imperceptively with each step to the side, trying to get into one-step range. Their swords just barely got crossed before Norin took a swift step forward and struck.

John's leg almost buckled at the pain as the other man passed him. He had hit him in the right hip, right where John had been injured before. Norin hadn't even aimed for the proper strike zone of John's abdomen, he had purposely aimed for the taller man's injury!

Dravel didn't call out a warning, nor did the other judges. To John's bad luck the three judges were at a bad angle and couldn't have seen Norin's purpose. The strike would only count as a miss.

John had quickly turned to face the other man just as Norin had. John's face was an expressionless mask, not allowing anyone to see his pain or thoughts. The shorter man flashed a smile when he saw the slight limp that betrayed John as they circled each other again.

John allowed the cocky man to make a few more attacks, although the last one hit him, but that was on his upper part of his metal arm. He wouldn't let anyone know, but he had slightly enjoyed the look of surprise on the blue-eyed man when the hit of the sword to John's artificial appendage rattled Norin's arms unpleasantly. John's arm had rattled him a little as well, but it was almost worth it to see the smirk disappear from his opponent's face.

John took advantage of Norin's distraction and lowered guard. He leapt forward and with a deep cry struck the open right arm and then head in swift succession, plowing past the shocked man John swung back around, facing Norin again.

Dravel had raised an arm indication that John's strikes were seen and counted. The other two judges also raised an arm in agreement. A scorekeeper wrote this down.

Norin's head was ringing and John saw the shorter man gritting his teeth. He had a feeling that he wasn't just doing that to bear the pain. The previous year's champion glared at the metal-armed freak, as he thought of John, but calmed himself at the thought of finishing him off quickly.

Just as John saw Norin set his jaw, he sensed movement and so reacted by propelling himself forward, his instincts saving him a doubly aching head as his sword again clashed with the other man's blade. He wondered if he imagined the spark.

They continued, trading blows, but more often than not blocking each other's swinging arc.

The minutes seemed to trickle by, just like the young men's sweat.

The two were audibly breathing hard, like horses after running a race course. And perhaps the analogy seemed to fit in some women's minds because to them the men looked like magnificent creatures.

Sarah looked on, worried. John's limp had become more pronounced. Although she couldn't be sure since most of the strikes happened so fast, she had a feeling that it was Norin's fault for aggravating John's injury.

Norin no longer looked as self-assured as he was at the beginning of the match, of which the doctor-in-training was glad. Even in John didn't win, Sarah would have been satisfied since he would have knocked the arrogant man down a notch.

Dravel watched, having the best view out of anyone. He shifted from one side to the other of the arena when the fighters' movements warranted it. The sword master loved the fight as a sport, the excitement, the raw energy of it all. He was quite experienced with more than his fair share of battle and knew that sword fighting was no game since often, especially in recent times, young men like them had to go out and test their skills, voluntarily of not, with sharpened swords to kill or be killed.

A high-pitched clang brought Dravel's attention back to the present.

John felt his skin burning from the sun and his salty sweat. His silvery-blue hair was wet, getting into his eyes, sweat slid down his face to drip off his chin. Both of the men's clothing clung to them, most notably their shirts between shoulder blades and on their chests. The two were almost evenly matched, but John knew that he was more likely to prevail because he had let Norin tire himself out earlier by allowing him to do the attacking, running past him while John stayed in place most of the time, using minimal energy to turn quickly on the balls of his feet to face the next charge.

John knew he had to go in for the kill, figuratively of course, soon or else he would lose out to exhaustion. His metal arm weighing down his side more than ever.

Renewing his grip on his sword John charged the wary Norin. Their swords and fists banged up against each other as they pushed. In a calculated move John pushed his hands up which caused the other man to quickly, instinctively jerk his arms down in an over correction to protect himself. Predicting this behavior from most experienced swordsmen John took swift advantage of the opening Norin unknowingly provided.

The pale man thrusted his blade past Norin's defense until the tip touched the tanned opponent's throat.

The thrust ended the match automatically, although they were only seconds away from the end of ten minutes.

As Dravel announced John the overall champion, Norin Munlou grudgingly lowered his sword. They brought their swords up to cross and stepped back to sheath their blades.

John extended his right hand and said, "Nice match."

Norin looked down at the metal with a sneer then walked away, head held high, back stiffly straight.

John lowered his hand, slumping a bit in a combination of tiredness, pain, and the weight of his arm. He felt the heavy pats on his back from a smiling Dravel, and many people from the audience crowded around him, congratulating him. He didn't feel as happy as he thought he should have been, thinking that he may have made an enemy of Norin Munlou.

All he wanted now, more than anything, was for Sarah to come and take him away in loving arms.

That day Sarah and John didn't go to the evening dance practice. John felt guilty believing Sarah had been looking forward to it even though on the third night of the festival there would be the actual, formal dance. He had apologized and promised to make it up to her tomorrow. Sarah wouldn't hear any of it and had to actually cover his mouth lightly with her fingers for him to stop apologizing.

They were home in John's room. Sarah smiled up at John, gently brushing sweat-stiffened hair away from his deep red eyes.

"Sit down," Sarah instructed, guiding the tall man to sit on the edge of his bed.

She left him a moment to pick up the bag of medical supplies her mother had left in the room. Her shoes padded against the floor. Sarah set the bag down on the bed next to John. She helped him pull his shirt off, his left arm stiff from wielding the sword a long time that day.

Sarah's eyes widened, taking in the sight of many angry welts and bruises on his body. She brought out a salve from the supplies for the bruises and some of the burdock mash Addy had prepared for the sunburns. She opened the glass jar and dipped her fingers into the thick, creamy substance. She began spreading the salve on a welt that went across John's torso, he hissed air between his teeth, the area where Sarah had put the substance on had heated up, but then it started to feel cold. Sarah continued to apply the medicine, rubbing it in on him until only the bump on his head was left. John looked up at her through his hair as he felt her gentle fingers shift through his hair. She looked very intent and easily found the bruise.

"Your hair is going to get sticky," she warned, already dipping her finger into the jar.

"I'll take a shower tomorrow," John answered.

The doctor-in-training parted his hair and applied the gooey salve, smoothing it on his bruise carefully, trying to avoid spreading it onto the surrounding hair.

"I think I'll bandage the mash onto you so it doesn't fall off of you and get the bed unnecessarily messy," Sarah said, more thinking out loud than consulting him.

The smell of the salve was a bit strong, some sort of minty smell mixed with the seemingly universal smell of medication.

Picking up handfuls of the love leaves mash Sarah spread it across John's red shoulders, his arm, and face. She laughed, trying to cover her mouth with her barely clean wrist. John looked like he was wearing the vitamin and mineral mask some women put on at night trying to retain their beauty, or become beautiful.

"You find my painful sunburns to be amusing?" John asked in a mock hurt voice. Sarah shook her head, trying her best to look innocent as she held in snickers. Suddenly she saw that he had sneaked a handful of the green mash into his left hand. Her eyes widened and she whispered, "You wouldn't dare."

She saw him smirk, she turned to flee, but he was already upon her. With his metal arm caging Sarah against him, her back pressed into his front as she struggled he pulled her back with him until they sat on his bed, she sat between his legs. She twisted against the tall man, frantically asking him to stop in hushed tones, not wanting to raise the suspicions of anyone who may be near by.

"No John! I'm serious! Don't-"

She was abruptly stopped by a gentle caress of John's lips against her cheek, his body curled around hers and she saw how intimate their position must look with her sitting between his legs on his bed, his arm across her stomach. Her face burned, but that too was suddenly changed as she felt cold, wet goop smack her face.

"John!" she yelled, almost angry as she felt the mash slide down onto her neck and then to her blouse. She tried to pull away, worried about her shirt getting a stain, but knew it was too late.

'Oh well, it was an old shirt anyway,' she thought.

John brought his other arm around her, his mood changing from mischievous to something that made Sarah feel strange, her heart beat a little faster, her face still flushed from before. He rested his chin on her right shoulder, quietly breathing her mixed scent of pharmaceuticals and a soft smell only hers. All the moving had caused the burdock mash to slip off, leaving behind pieces stuck to his face. Sarah twisted in his hold, John allowing her, sensing that she wasn't intending to escape. She brought her hand up, wiping away left over mash from his face, tracing an eyebrow, then the purple tattoo at the corner of his eye. John turned his face slightly, kissing her inner wrist. Sarah's breath lodged in her throat. She didn't know what had brought on his very affectionate mood, but it made her feel uncertain, not knowing what he expected from her. She brought her hand back down, resting it against his powerful arms.

John was studying her through his intense, deep red eyes. Sarah flicked her own light blue ones away from his gaze nervously then looked down at their arms, his wrapped protectively around her torso and hers resting on top of his.

"John," Sarah started quietly, still looking down at their bare arms, "why are you acting like this?"

"I have feelings for you Sarah," he replied, speaking equally softly.

"What do you mean by 'feelings' John?" her voice had gotten slightly sharp, more from the intensity of the mood than anything else.

"The kind I'm sure I've never felt before, even though," he smirked ruefully, continuing, "I don't remember my past. This deep feeling that makes me warm whenever I think of you. I don't know if it's love, but whatever it is I want to be with you."

A childlike smile played at Sarah's lips, a bit uncertain, but warm. Her heart was unsure and elated at the same time. She believed that she loved him, but a corner of her mind wondered if he only had these feelings for her because she was the one who helped him recover. She's heard of stories where at first a patient will find their attendant attractive, believing they had fallen in love, only to find that their feelings were false, and were only gratitude for being healed.

She wanted to think that they would be different and squelched that pessimistic voice, if only for this one moment.

Sarah turned in John's arms, his metal one feeling warm like his natural one. She slid down onto her knees by the bed and gingerly hugged John's torso, not wanting to cause any pain. She rested the side of her head against him, her ear pressed to his hard stomach.

"John," she mumbled, her eyes closed, "I think I love you."

**AN:** So… there was a little action and a little action winkwink. This chapter feels really weird to me, especially the last part, but I hope it was…interesting to you. The swordfighting rules are loosely based on what I know of the rules for kendo (Japanese fencing) tournaments. I've only started learning how to fight an opponent in kendo since I'm still a beginner and have just barely got into bogu (armor). Each match in kendo is 3 minutes maximum, 2 point win (or whoever got a point before the time runs out), there are 3 judges set up in a triangle around the competitors and acceptable hits are the top of the head, middle of the forearm, stomach, and for the skilled the thrust to the neck, which is really dangerous for beginners to do.

So I added _a_ "bad apple" and there will be more to come. So yes, this story seems to be getting boring aside from the fighting, or so I hope, but I am planning for some excitement to come, although that will be in several chapters ahead. I hope the fluff breaks up the monotony.

**Poco-poco** Thank you very much. I'm actually updating again! Yay for me!

**ArtemisMoon** So since I had a lot written I had quite an itch to get another chapter out and updated (the rash is horrible! Joking, just joking.) I'm getting worried about the hurricanes down where you are, but what would I know about hurricanes? I've never gone further east than Arizona in the US.

**Ah Young Song **Thanks for reviewing each of my chapters! Sorry if my story is a bit boring, but I hope I can keep you reading it! Just warning you though, it may be a very, very, very long while before I finish this story.

**KlutzyGirl** Yes, when I thought up Lindsey asking if Sarah kissed John's boo boos all better I just couldn't resist and had to put it in there, all the while I had this interesting, er, smile on my face. I'm a little unsure, maybe it was a grimace of malevolence… Hey, now that I look at that word it looks like "male violence". Now would that translate to violent males, or violence towards males? I guess in this case we can take a guess. LOL!

**Kae Noel** Hey Kae! How're ya doin'? Have you been busy? I'm still waiting for an update to one of your stories, but I suppose we're all busy. Take it easy.


	21. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

The ground was muddy with the type of mud that liked to stick to shoes or boots and made sucking sounds when feet were lifted, but it was only a thin layer of mud most places, only the deep type that threatened to remove your feet coverings, or did, were in the animal paddocks.

The rain had started in the dark of night and had just abated. The cold rays of the morning sun climbed up from the below the grey plains and edged roofs and colored lifeless cropped fields in a spray of gold. Soon the sun was warming, getting to work in drying the mud back to dirt.

It was to this scene that several people arrived to on the second day of the festival. Some thoughtful people wheeled out old hay, too musty to be given to animals, and spread it over areas too muddy to tread upon at entrances to the old barn and around other frequented areas.

John's feet were slightly sore from all the shuffling of the previous day's swordfights, but the rest of his body was even more so. He was walking with Sarah, Sarah's mother had left them, taking the children with her with promises of fairy floss later if they were good.

John and Sarah walked passed booths, stopping from time to time to look at the wares and trinkets being sold, or for Sarah to catch up with an acquaintance.

He stepped on a small stone that jabbed his sore foot, but he continued walking with a minimal limp. He was sore, but probably not as sore as he would have been had not Sarah applied the salve to his wounds the night before. John flicked his deep, red eyes over to Sarah as they stopped and she spoke to the vendor of the precious stones stand, commenting on how smooth some of the rocks were and so on. Her cheeks were slightly reddened, no doubt the work of the sun just as John had woken up with flaking skin from his sunburns.

_The night before in John's room the diffident couple, for a couple is what they had to be after the confessions, had just sat there with Sarah kneeling on the floor, her soft arms around his waist, resting her head against his bruised abdomen and he sat on the edge of his bed, both of them a mess of green mash._

_John had looked down at the top of her head, seeing only the wavy black mass of her hair as she hid her face from him. Her tentative confession of love warmed him from the pit of his stomach, as strange as that would seem, but then again her words had traveled from against the stomach her head was pressed against. He had reached down with his left hand, touching the slightly rough, but soft and springy hair of Sarah's head and slid his hand to her shoulder. He brought his other hand to her arm and had pulled her up and sat her next to him on the bed, enclosing her in his arms, again pressing her to him, Sarah's arms were trapped between their bodies, but she didn't mind. Into the delicate shell of her ear he had whispered, "I think I love you too."_

Returning back to the present, John moved to the next booth with Sarah, the day brightening, although the fall colors were not so vibrant here, only the browns and greys of dirt and faded wood. The tall, pale man went back to his thoughts, remembering the night before and how they had parted, commenting on the mess and how Sarah had blushed as she wished him goodnight with a peck to his cheek. John still felt the warmth of her soft lips on his face as if the memory of the kiss would remain locked in his tactile memories forever.

Sarah looked up at John indirectly, though they had voiced their feelings in his room, she was unsure as to what to do now. Were they officially a couple then? Would it be okay for them to be seen together, just the two of them? The doctor-in-training was not very experienced, but knew enough that every relationship would be different, some took it fast (like Kancia) and others took it slow. Sarah believed that no matter who she would be with it would go nice and slow.

The young woman kept glancing over at John, or his hand, hoping almost embarrassedly, while she discreetly wiped her hand against her skirt, that he would take her hand in his. She briefly considered slipping her hand into his large, open one, but knew she didn't have the courage to, she would die of embarrassment, but if he took her hand, she would still flush red in her cheeks and look around, but it would be all right somehow. She would consent to it.

An hour passed, the couple were at the barn where the food had been and now all sorts of wooden crafts were displayed, waiting to be judged and to be admired. Sarah was fidgety, still nervous and longing for John's warm hand. Was it just her, or did there seem to be more couples holding hands than usual? People passed by, scanning the woodworks, others stood around, carefully studying delicate carvings.

John had started to notice Sarah's fidgeting and how she would subtly brush her hand against her skirt. He wondered why she was behaving as she was and decided he should try to reassure her, hopefully calm her restlessness. John reached out his left hand to catch Sarah's right as it was again brushing against her thigh and caught it mid-swipe. She jumped in surprise, not noticing the anticipated moment in her nervousness waiting for it.

'His hand is so warm and big,' Sarah thought as she gazed down at their hands, his grasping her, enfolding it in a calloused palm. She looked up at him, but he was studying a model flying ship a talented child had carved, but she saw that he had a faint smile on his lips.

John and Sarah met up with Aunt Rena, Berin, Lindsey, and Brittany and went to see the animal events. They witnessed a man imitate the goose call so well that a couple geese honked back from their crates, then looked at the man in confusion when they saw him do the sound and not another goose. Some of the calls were so amusing the crowd laughed and others were very well done and beautiful, the contestants ranged from children to the elderly, and the audience cheered and applauded them all. After the animal calls the "Husband call" contest began with much hilarity. Unbashful wives demonstrated their calls to their men.

"HEEERE! Heeere! Heeere, HerRRNAM!"

Animals were shown and auctioned off, or given prizes.

"The goose chase is going to start soon," Aunt Rena mentioned to John, "Are you going to participate?"

John remembered the chase being mentioned when he and Sarah had gone to the tailors' shop. It did sound interesting.

"Yes, I think I will."

The young man wasn't aware of it, but although the goose chase was for entertainment there was an underlying goal. Many young men entered the chase to impress others including, most especially, the women. This did not mean that the goose chase was exclusively for men to participate in, some brave women who didn't mind getting extremely dirty also took part in the game.

A very small flock of geese had been released in the areana that had been used for the swordfights the day before. The bottom of the fence was boarded up to prevent any escape and even though it was unlikely that these geese could fly since they weighed more than their wild flying brethren, as an extra precaution their wings had been clipped allowing them to only be able to flutter up for a short time, but not fly.

Most of the geese were ganders, donated, or sold cheaply, by the farmers who had no use for them but to eat them since they do not produce eggs. Also these ganders were of the worst tempered, honking loudly and puffing up, ready to bite any hand that dared to venture near.

The participants eased over the fence so as not to startle (or more likely anger) the birds and set up marked crates for them to place a goose in if they were lucky to capture one. Mud squished around booted feet. Sleeves, if they were long, were rolled up, although some kept their sleeves down to protect their arms from the biting that would surely come from the disgruntled geese.

"Start!"

People began running into the center of the muddy arena to where the flock had uneasily huddled. The birds angrily honked and fluttered, scattering and flowing back together in a mass of grey and white feathers and bobbing heads. Men and women alike slid in the mud, falling and tripping over each other while chasing geese. John studied the melee and stopped moving. He crouched down and waited. The large birds mostly ran away from the larger beings chasing them, some turning back and attacking their pursuers. People laughed when a gander that stood its ground started chasing a young man who was barely finished being a boy. He yelled when the grey gander stretched its long neck and painfully nipped the back of his leg while it flapped.

John watched all this and the rest of the chaos patiently and saw that a couple of birds were coming his way in order to avoid the woman chasing after them. The geese noticed too late that they were running to a human and began veering away, but the pale man was quick and he snatched at their necks. They struggled wildly, feathers flying as the pair flapped, almost poking a wing into his eye. John stood up, keeping the birds away at arms length. The woman who had been chasing the birds was smeared in mud, her face almost fully covered in it. She turned in defeat, ready to chase other remaining birds.

"Here," John called out to the muddy woman, "This one's yours. Thanks for letting me catch one."

He held out the larger of the two geese and the woman looked at him timidly, unsure, but accepted the bird when he walked closer. She smiled at him and took the goose, wrapping an arm firmly around its body, pinning its wings to its body and with the other hand she held the struggling bird's neck, trying to keep it from biting her and thrashing.

After making sure the thin woman had a good grip on her goose he released his hold on the bird and secured his own gander and jogged over to his crate and placed the bird in it, quickly throwing the lid down before it could try to jump out.

John and Sarah walked along a dirt road with the crate held between them. The young man had the foresight to tie rope handles to the crate to prevent any necessity of directly handling the crate and allowing the vicious gander a chance at their fingers. They were on their way home to drop the goose off at the stable and for John to wash off the mud before they returned to the festival for the dance practice.

"You did a really nice thing for Tesna," Sarah said, then seeing John's brow wrinkle she added, "She's the lady you gave one of the geese to. She probably needed that goose more than you know, her husband doesn't treat her well and… well, hopefully that goose lays eggs for her, she always has that hungry look about her."

The gander was dropped off in an empty stall with water and some feed and John went on up to take a shower. Sarah went to the medical cabinet and retrieved the can of salve for John's bruises. Its somewhat strong smell reminded her of the night before, warming her. She closed the cool, glass doors of the cabinet with a click and made her way to John's bedroom with the can of salve.

The quick shower felt good to John's sore body and the fact that it removed the mud and grit was an added bonus, even though getting clean was actually the main purpose of the shower. He came out of the bathroom wearing only pants and was rubbing his head with a towel.

Sarah was waiting for him in the bedroom. She looked up when she heard John's feet slapping against the wooden floor. She saw him enter, still rubbing the towel against his head to dry his hair. Sarah stared at him. She had seen him shirtless, and more, before when tending to his injuries, but seeing him doing something as mundane as drying his hair while muscles twitched and pulled with the motions of his arms was certainly… fascinating.

'He's sooo…'

Sarah's mouth went dry.

The young woman cleared her throat along with her mind, or at least attempted to.

"Hm?" John hummed in reply.

"Oh, um, let me medicated your bruises," she mumbled out as she unscrewed the lid of the can.

John pulled the towel of his head and held it loosely in one hand and stepped closer to the attractive dark-haired woman. With sure, but tender, hands Sarah smoothed the soothing salve on his wounds. The doctor's daughter sensed a strangely comforting smell of masculinity seemingly radiating off of John. No, it wasn't quite a scent, but rather a feeling of warmth that coursed through her from the breath she took. In a way it was familiar, akin to what she felt, or sensed in some way, around her father. It was the same feeling as when her father's strong arms had held her in her bedroom to keep bed time monsters away, the same secure feeling when falling asleep at a tavern at her father's side and knowing she would wake up safely tucked in her bed in the morning.

But this feeling, this warmth from John was different. He is not a father, he is an intimacy.

"Sarah? Are you okay?" a concerned voice rattled the doctor-in-training from her thoughts.

Sarah turned her head, a blush staining her cheeks as she replied, "Ah, sorry. Why don't you put on a shirt and we can go back to the barn."

His eyes softened from concern to adoration and a gentle smile spread across his face. He reached out with his left hand and cupped Sarah's chin, pulling her face to him as he leaned down. He barely skimmed his lips against hers when he pulled back and released her, going to his closet in search of a warm shirt, allowing Sarah to compose herself.

**Author's Notes:**

Well, this chapter has been long over due. Sorry for the almost 1 year wait. I lost motivation to write because of college and all the work that entails. I skimmed through some of these pages of this story and sometimes I find it hard to believe that I actually wrote any of it, it seems so foreign. I'm 20 now and I started this around 16 or 17 and a lot has happened from my first, dare I say "love"? deaths of two people I didn't get to know in the Japanese program to my school and their effect on my close friends who did get to know them, and the sad events of my sister's friend. I think all these events may change my writing from here on out as well as not been writing for a while, I may have become rusty, but we'll see what I do.

Sorry again for the almost one year wait. I wonder if some people remember this story?


	22. Chapter 20

Please review. I've had 38 hits on my last chapter I had posted and only 2 reviews for it which I find ridiculous, although happy that so many seemed to have read it if not reviewed for it.

Chapter 20

Many people crowded inside the barn, tables pushed aside for more room, and were instructed to their places for practicing some dances.

"Men and women please pair off and make a circle," a cherubic woman instructed from amidst the crowd. People did as they were told and stood so that the man of each pair (or boy since several children joined) were at the left of the women (or girls) making it so that the rough circle of humans were alternating between man and woman.

"Women face outward and men face inward," she continued to instruct as the crowd obeyed.

They continued on, men at times one on knee as the women circled them in eight steps or men and women weaving around each other, grasping each hand that came by and ending with a different partner than before, smiling, laughing, and then continuing the dance being taught to them. Soon they learned another dance that broke the men and women into pairs of four or so, holding hands up as another pair wove under the bridges made by arms and spots stolen by men and women, or pairs, of the weaving pair stealing partners in good fun and for the weaving people to bow out gracefully when their spot was taken only to do it to someone else in return.

Most everyone became breathless and took breaks for some refreshments or to sit on bales of hay or benches. John followed Sarah to the barn's open doorway, away from all the voices that melded together to the point where words could not be distinguished, where she breathed in the cool air and looked at the darkening horizon. The sun had just dipped beneath, its light kissed the sky above it in a dim orangish red that spread out to night blue and black that rolled out with stars across the rest of the sky to hide its hem behind trees and waving grass on hills.

"The moons are shadowed tonight, I can barely see their outline," commented Sarah as she stared up at the night sky thoughtfully as an older couple walked passed them from inside the barn.

"That was fun, wasn't it?" Sarah asked as her breathing slowed.

John nodded as he took a seat on a bale of hay near the entrance. The dry grass prickled through his stiff pants. His hair was in his eyes. He swept it back and away and thought, 'I need to remember to ask who the local barber is.'

Sarah turned to John and came over to the bale of hay and gathered her skirts as he scooted over to the right and she sat down beside him. They sat in silence, Sarah noticing the curve of his sturdy back and the nearness of his leg to hers and John noticing her small but strong hands in her lap and the nearness of her to his side. John made a decision; he brought his left arm up and put it around Sarah's waist, pulling her closer to him as he continued to look at the sky. Sarah blushed profusely, although she had to admit that she had wanted this and leaned a little into him as she said nothing.

"Sarah?" John whispered, his head turned slightly so that his lips were near her ear.

"Yes?" she inquired softly.

"Who's the local barber?"

There was silence.

Sarah was briefly bemused then started laughing, covering her mouth with a hand, trying to hold it in. John smirked, his arm still around Sarah's shuddering back as she calmed down. She turned to him, looking up with a smile and a quirked eyebrow and reached up with a hand to rub his hair between her fingers near his neck and as she smoothed her own features said, "I would miss some of this beautiful hair," John quirked his own eyebrow at that, "but I guess you would look better with a shorter cut. I could cut your hair myself; I've had plenty of experience on my father's hair."

He was glad to see that she said this with a fondness, although a hint of faraway sorrow was present.

John nodded and said, "Please, thank you."

Sarah shivered and crossed her arms as a breeze swept through.

"Should we go back inside?" John asked.

"Actually I think I would like to head home for the night, tomorrow's another day of festivities and all," she replied.

John pushed himself up from the bale of hay and briefly brushed off his pants as Sarah followed suit. He offered a hand for her to take and she smiled as she took his calloused left hand with her right. They walked into the fresh night, feeling the nip of autumn in the air around them and on the cold ground they walked upon. Their gently swinging joined hands warmed them more than it should have physically, but it did despite any sense.

Sarah woke up the last day of the festival realizing that she really didn't want or need to get to the festival center until it was near time of the dance since she has already been to it the other two days and have seen everything. Her warm bed really called to her, the familiar smelling blankets and pillow really keeping her in and she couldn't fight them even after she realized that she should probably get up and tell John that she wasn't going out until later that day. She sighed, unwillingly winning the battle to get out of bed and rolled out with a grimace as her feet touched the cold wooden floor.

John was changing into a shirt when he heard the tapping at his door. He pulled the shirt down and called out, "Come in."

Sarah came in wearing pants and a sweater, "Good morning."

"Good morning Sarah."

"Um, John, I was just coming up to tell you that I think I'd rather stay in until it's time for the dance," Sarah started, her hands in her pants pockets, "I mean, since we've already seen all that there is out there and all, although since this is your first festival here you might want to go around…"

"That's fine, I was thinking somewhere along the same lines. I'd follow you around though if you were to go."

Color tinted her cheeks at that comment as she looked down. John was having some thoughts that included closing the door and dropping Sarah onto his bed… not that he would actually follow through, but it was there in the back of his mind as he pushed it down even further trying to concentrate on more proper thoughts when Sarah stepped into his room and closed the door behind her. She came up to him shyly, but surely and reached up to wrap her arms around his torso and he let his arms come up and hold her to him. She got up onto her toes and whispered into his ear, "Want to take a nap?"

"Want to take a nap?" Sarah asked from across the room.

John shook his head from his daze and double checked to see if this was reality, "What?"

"You look a little tired, are you okay?" Sarah asked as she came up to him and put a hand to his forehead, "You look a little red in the face."

John felt highly embarrassed that he lapsed into a day dream while the subject of his affections was there to see him.

The young woman saw his expression and realized that he was not fevered but looked a bit uncomfortable in an adorable way, if a full grown man can be adorable, 'Which of course they can,' Sarah thought as she tilted her head in contemplation. She reached up her hands to his shoulders and lightly pushed him back until he was near enough to his bed and gently pushed down for him to sit to which he complied, wondering what she would do. Sarah tip-toed to his door and closed it and came back to him, her face flushing at what she was about to do.

John felt his heart jump as he waited in anticipation of what she was about to do and hoping that he wouldn't do anything to scare her off since she was clearly summoning up her courage to approach him after closing the door.

Sarah pushed at him lightly so that he would get onto his bed, legs and all and then sat next to him, her legs tucked up as she leaned into his side, his back resting against the head board. He put an arm around her, amused at her behavior and nervous all at the same time, knowing that they couldn't really do too much in their current situation with their sense of honor and possibly drawing attention. He briefly wondered about how protective Berin may become and a concern from his least heard corner of his mind poked up, 'I hope she doesn't do castrations.'

He let out a huff of air that didn't complete its transformation into a chuckle at that cautionary thought.

Sarah put a hand on his strong chest, her hand moving subtly with each intake of his breath and she looked up into his face, his head tilted towards her, his long bangs falling forward over his eyes. Sarah reached up and brushed his bangs aside to see his beautiful eyes and John caught that hand up in the right hand, the cool metal cradling her hand gently and pressing against his face. The young woman felt the slight prickle of growing facial hair, indicating he had yet to shave, although it was rather unnoticeable in the first place as he had very light colored hair and his beard doesn't grow in thick. She was brought out of her reverie when he slid her hand down along his strong jaw to his subtly curved lips and pressed kisses into her palm, holding her body close to him with his left arm which was rubbing her side gently and sometimes stroked her belly in a soothing motion. She felt warm and comfortable but also seduced as he lowered her hand, sliding it across his mouth as he grazed his teeth against it until he had her finger tips and nibbled on the tips of them.

John saw Sarah blush under his intense gaze as he grazed his teeth against her fingers and saw her shattered-jewel blue eyes shift away, but she put her head against his shoulder as he continued. John smirked and stepped it up a notch and licked her fingers. He felt her startled flinch against him and heard her gasp. Her skin didn't have much of a flavor as they were freshly washed, but trace amounts of salt left her fingers and onto his tongue, so little flavor and yet enticing and arousing, John wasn't the only one to think so. He put her captive hand down onto his chest and drew her up against him more so with both arms around her, mattress shifting under them, and lowered his head to hers. Sarah was still blushing, but she responded and met him halfway. Their noses didn't bump since they were at an angle that each had their own head twisted at an angle. Sarah would have been happy enough (and light-headed and red-faced enough) at that, but John had other plans, although he would not go too far as to make her uncomfortable with their new found intimacy. His tongue slowly slid from his lips that were pressed against hers, probing, prodding gently at the seal of her lips very briefly to not make her feel pressured, only suggesting. His hand softly rubbing her back, one arm supporting her back with his hand at her hip, her hands trapped between them, but that soon changed.

Sarah parted her lips hesitantly, too shy to initiate the use of her oral digit, but wanting to feel as being part of this… whatever this was. Her hands crept up slowly until they were on his shoulders and then slid around his neck, her arms following until she couldn't reach around any further. John felt happiness at her acceptance and soon they were pressing their mouths closer together, tongues probing each other's, Sarah timidly and John slowly. They parted, eyes open and arms still around each other, breathing in pants, feeling puffs of air on their faces from the other. Their kiss lasted not too long, but it felt as though it did and Sarah knew that she shouldn't kiss like that too often with John as it was making her body feel bothered.

She silently rested her head against his chest, her body curled into him as John calmed himself down rubbing her back, calming himself down before his ardor became physically apparent and he'd have to hide himself from Sarah until it went down. He could feel her smiling lips against his chest as she kept her face from view. John started shifting them down on the now wrinkled blankets as he mumbled into her hair, "I think I'll take that nap and sleep in a bit."

Sarah's face was warm as she thought about what the arms that still circled her body implied. She put her left arm out and around his stomach as she settled herself up against John's left side, her head still resting on his chest that moved up and down with his breaths and pounded with his heart beats that became slower and slower. John felt acceptance of their situation from Sarah when she snuggled into him and he reached an arm past her body and flipped up the hanging edge of the blanket up around her.

'My heart must be going faster,' Sarah thought. But soon her blush faded until it was nothing but a becoming tint in her cheeks and both of the young adults had slowing breaths as they started to drift off into sleep. John's arms were possessively wrapped around the maiden of his choice, hoping that red stick will help him even though it was a silly traditional ritual of this town.

Author's Note: blushes, scratches head Ummm, well… That was highly embarrassing and I'm sure that many of you can tell that my embarrassment leaked into that last few paragraphs as well. Sorry if things got repetitive. I was trying to draw out my vocabulary but I couldn't think of better way to describe what I wanted short of getting my huge encyclopedic dictionary while I'm here getting ready for bed. I wish I was more descriptive of something though. I love details and I find myself lacking in this chapter. Well, nothing says I can't come back and revamp it later.

Sorry I haven't updated forever. I've been working ever since I got back from school for a day camp and haven't felt what to write since as soon as I get home from work with those kids I feel like a vegetable and acting like a little kid myself when I get pushed since I had to an adult the whole day for the kids. LOL! This is my last week of work then next week I have to check in for jury duty, hopefully I won't get called in since the week after I'm going to be in Washington with my family for vacation and then go to school. Wait… I'm wondering if my vocabulary has been affected by the kids I work with… Of course my brain could have just gone to mush anyhow… :-P

Please, please, please review! Seeing new reviews makes me happy!

-LSR7


	23. Chapter 21

**Author's Note:** So it has been yet another year and I've finally got out another chapter. Sorry for the long wait. As I explained in my bio I've been keeping busy with college. It was so much easier to write when I was in high school, had more time or something I guess. I'm afraid this chapter hasn't been beta read, and I only scanned through it to spell check and add a couple details. So I'm getting down into more serious matters with this chapter and it will probably continue on that way. This story has gotten so huge I wonder if perhaps it's gotten bland. I know the general story structure I have in mind, it's just taking a long time to go through it and the many details and events that are to happen.

Thanks to all who have reviewed my previous chapter! I always look forward to reading what you all think. Sorry this came out so long after the last chapter.

I hope you all enjoy and please leave a review.

**Chapter 21**

Sarah shifted, feeling very hot and felt material slide off of her back, cool air immediately rushing around her, but she was still warmed by the body she was resting against. She opened her eyes, her vision bleary, clearing up with her rapid blinking and yawn, breathing in the warmth. John had a comfortable smell, and though she wouldn't admit it to anybody, she wouldn't mind waking up to his warmth and scent everyday.

Her left hand rested on John's chest and she splayed her fingers over the thin material of his shirt, feeling the work hardened muscles of his chest. She began to slowly run her hand down his abdomen then back up to his chest, rubbing him. She didn't see the slivers of red peeking through light eyelashes down at her on his chest, nor see the small smile on his lips, but she did feel the arm around her grasp her to him.

"Ah!" John grunted, crinkling his face as he held his arm still.

Sarah pushed herself up on the shifting bed, eyebrows pushing together, "Is something wrong?"

A smile twitched back onto his face as he replied, "No, just that my arm had fallen asleep, now it's all tingly."

Sarah put together a monumental effort to not try and poke at his arm and was very proud of herself when she succeeded.

John saw the odd look on her face that was hovering over him and quirked an eyebrow, wondering if he missed something as he held his arm as still as possible as he felt the strange ticklish pain.

The young woman pushed back her dark, wavy hair then bent down and pecked the naturally pale man on the cheek, getting up from the bed and with a twinkle in her blue eyes said, "We should get going, I'll meet you at the door in twenty minutes."

John, witnessing her new found confidence in their relationship was a bit speechless, although there really wasn't much he needed to say other than nod an affirmative. As she stepped out of the door he began to shake his left arm out, getting rid of the prickling sensations running up and down his arm. He felt quite content, a kiss on the cheek and a stomach rubbing. He was no dog, but that felt good, he could understand why a dog would roll over for such a belly rub. He laughed to himself as he got ready.

They arrived at the old barn in a wagon that had picked them up with others, thanked the driver as they all got down from the rough-hewn cart as the sun was slowly descending, the sky already starting to rust and deepen in color. A fine haze was over the roiling crowd of dancing, laughing, and singing bodies, so slight that it only pricked up on the visual sense as just not being able to see the surrounding in sharp detail. It became almost to the point of cloudiness when the haze was followed to its point of origin: groups of elderly men smoking their pipes. It wasn't an unpleasant smell, most of it was sweet, some of it tangy. Many of the men savored the taste of the sweetened smoke, holding it in their mouth and slowly letting it drift out as they talked amongst their friends on the side watched the younger people swarming in the center. A couple of them were impressing some young children by puffing out smoke rings from their whiskered mouths, smiling at them indulgently as children asked them to do it again.

Sarah's hand rested in the crook of John's left arm, the cool palm of his right hand resting on top of her hand as they walked past a bonfire and a cooking pit with a boar, smelling deliciously of spices, rotating above it cranked by hand. A large, short-haired dog lay by the cranker's feet, eyes looking up from where it laid its head on its large, black paws.

Many recognizable faces were in the living sea that had taken up residence in the center of the barn, its edges lapping up to the tables of food and drink towards the limits of the building. In back a few ribbon encrusted barrels had been cracked open, wines, ales, and beers freely flowing for those who wished to imbibe. Already a few red-faced men and fewer rosy-cheeked women could be found floating nearby, various amounts of alcoholic beverage remained in their mugs and glasses.

John straightened his arm down, Sarah's hand gliding down to be caught by John's own hand to clasp and he pulled her behind him as he walked them into the crowd of dancing bodies. He glanced back at her, past the warm-lighted flushed faces of the dancers around them, face angled down coyly the young doctor-in-training's cheeks were stained self-effacingly. The hair that would have framed her face was pulled back and braided together resting on top of the rest of her wavy black locks at the back of her head. Her dress was a simple blue affair with little white flowers patterned on it, looking fresh and delicate though with short sleeves, baring most of her arms, and a modest scoop neck that was just little lower than her subtle collar bones.

The particular dance set finished and soon the woman on stage instructed all dancers into their next formation. Sarah and John joined the circle formation, clasping hands with each other and those next to them as per the woman's instructions as the dance began. The movements of the dance had everyone bobbing, sliding around each other, and appeared as starbursts as partners were switched, women circling men, people diverging and converging in serpentines around the opposite sex. People young and old smiled and laughed as the tempo of the music and dance quickened until soon some people couldn't keep up and scattered away from those who continued until finally the frantic musicians finished with a flourish. People laughed and cheered for the musicians and the few who remained until the end. Every participants' face was flushed; several went to take a break outside to cool off.

Sarah and John had not made it to the very end, but had quite the exhilarating experience. Sarah was trying to calm her breath and herself down, her heart still beating against her ribs, but no longer feeling as if it would burst when she had been dancing. The two went to the refreshments table, John poured them each some punch from the large punch bowl to cool themselves off.

Sarah finally managed to speak, saying her thanks and, "That was fun, what did you think? I assume you can't remember dancing from before here."

John looked down at her, his breathing had returned to normal, and with a smile he answered in his deep voice, "Yes, that was quite fun. Although I can't remember specifically dancing, it felt somewhat familiar."

"Well, it's an old folk dance so it's more than possible that it's not just isolated to here. Or even a variation of the dance," Sarah added, then took a sip of her drink.

John nodded thoughtfully as they looked out at the group of dancers, several who had not participated in the previous dance and many who had returned from cooling off. This time they were broken up into groups of eight, weaving around each other then creating a bridge of arms where the couple on the end went under them. They searched the crowd of dancers to see if there was anyone they recognized. They spotted a grinning Yidirik in one group and saw that Brittany and Lindsey had also joined in, dancing with boys who were probably encouraged to by their mothers by the way their faces looked, but they seemed to be enjoying it now.

"There's Kancia and that's her gentleman caller, I think his name is Farren," Sarah pointed out towards a group of dancers closest to the entrance. It wasn't too hard to spot the curled redhead and her large suitor, as she was petite he was a giant in comparison to her.

They joined in with the dancing, conversing with friends and acquaintances that were in the surging crowd when their positions allowed, drifting off and meeting others, everyone enjoying themselves. Even the stoic Fernot was dancing with his young wife, who, upon introduction between fellow co-workers at Peronel's farm, winked at John and Sarah (Yidirik had told everyone he knew all about John's discovery of the infamous red stick). John and Sarah kept their blushes to a minimum, which wasn't hard since everyone's faces were already glowing from the exertions of dancing.

On the sidelines they had seen Aunt Rena and Berin conversing with other women. The doctor saw them and gave them a brief wave and a warm smile before returning to the conversation.

A slow tempo song began, the first of its kind in the evening full of rousing, up-beat songs and couples drifted to each other, no long part of a group dance. John offered his metal right hand palm up to Sarah as way of a silent question, back straight but leaning forward slightly in a bow. Sarah answered slowly, but surely, placing her left hand in his upturned hand. The metal was cool as metal would be, but was somewhat warm from body heat. He lifted their joined hands up a bit as he reached with his left hand to Sarah's waist and Sarah lifted her right hand up to his shoulder. He gently pulled her body to his, settling his left hand lightly upon her back. They watched at each other as they swayed together to the music, a deep sounding stringed instrument drawn out into a low vibrato.

John's intense gaze embarrassed Sarah, who was not able to keep their eye contact and with a shy smile she looked instead to his shoulder. John blinked, he had not intended to discomfit his partner. He softened his gaze and leaned into her a bit to speak in her ear and whispered, "Have I told you that you look lovely tonight?"

She ducked her head and shook her head, then whispered back, "Thank you. And you look handsome tonight."

No, not the most original thing to say, but else could she have said? She was thunderstruck by her date, especially now in this slow dance. His warm hand pressed lightly into her back as they swayed, it put slightly more pressure, pulling her even closer, their distance was between polite and intimate. As it was, others who were in meaningful relationships had already pressed up to each other in the anonymity of the crowd. Sarah let the gentle music take her and rested her head on John's chest, they gently rocking, he leading them in circles, switching direction from time to time.

All too soon the music faded and couples parted to a more acceptable distance. Sarah missed being held in the embrace of that slow dance. They would have to see to it that they had another chance later.

The young doctor-in-training and her patient/love interest wandered towards the table of food and refreshments when a commotion broke out at the nearby alcohol sampling. Those near enough to hear turned their heads to see a bearded man swayed as he towered over the prone figure of a woman, who had curled up into a fetal position.

"Don't you dare tell me when I've had enough you whore!" the clearly inebriated man yelled, his face hot with drink and anger, cords in his neck stood out with the clenching of his jaws. People stood around in shock and uncomfortable silence. A man came up to the bearded one and put a hesitant hand upon his shoulder and nervously and quietly said to him, "There's no need for that here, don't do this here."

This seemed to anger the drunken man further as he threw up his arm to violently shake off the other man's hand as he yelled at him, the woman on the floor momentarily forgotten, "I'll do what the hell I want with my wife! It's none of your business!"

People backed away from the area, some watching in fascinated horror, others looking away as if embarrassed, but no one offering help. The barn was large enough that this incident had not yet caught the attention of everyone, but that would soon change as awareness spread like fire across the crowd as to what was happening. With a hard look on John's face he quickly made his way through the crowd, he was already very near in the first place as the food and refreshments were placed very near the alcohol.

Seeing that the other man wasn't offering up much resistance the drunk one turned his attention back to his victim, it was Tesna, the one who John had captured a goose for. She was trying to escape by crawling away on the packed dirt floor, avoiding looking at the others, no one helping her.

"Where the hell do you think you're goin'!"

"That's enough!"

Attention was turned to John who swiftly placed himself in between Tesna and her apparent husband. John had taken a quick glance at Tesna whose cheek and eye were already swelling and darkening.

"Who the hell are you?" the man slurred, he wore stained clothing, his lightly graying hair unkempt, probably from his aggressive movements.

"Who I am is of no consequence except that I will keep you from harming this woman any further! What dishonorable man are you to beat your own wife?" John asked, fury spreading through him, burning him while his exterior looked icy.

"Not yer damn business!" the man raged, his brown blood shot eyes glaring at him and with a yell he charged John. In a series of quick motions that had those that surrounded the scene unbelieving at the speed, John grabbed the fist that was coming towards him as he stepped to the side, tripping the drunk with a swipe of his foot and followed the man down, twisting the arm back and bent up. The dark haired man landed hard with a grunt, his arms chicken-winged behind him by John who had a knee pressed into the burly man's back.

"Get off me you freak!" shouted Tesna's husband, his weather lined face creased further by his snarl, struggling against John's hold on him, but then yelped and stilled for a moment when John put pressure up on his wrists.

By then some help had arrived as people began to move, making way for the local law enforcement. A balding, mustached man came, along with Dravel. The man with Dravel stared at John, slightly surprised, but also seeming to measure him up as they came next to the men on the ground.

"John, we'll take it from here," Dravel said gravely, putting a rough hand on the pinned man's arm. John nodded and when he was assured that the two newcomers had a firm grip on the drunk he release his hold and got up. Sarah had ran to get Berin when all this started and now they were treating the shaking Tesna on a bench nearby.

People stood around John in astonishment, impressed and shocked. He leveled a hardened glare at all who had witnessed the events in a daze and spoke loudly, anger barely kept from his voice, "Why did no one come to help Tesna?"

No one answered him, several looked guiltily at the floor, avoiding his encompassing gaze. Others looked bewildered.

"Don't any of you say you couldn't have done something! He was just one man, and look at all of you, you wouldn't needed to have fought, where were the people who could have pulled Tesna away? Where were the men who could have stopped her from being hit in the first place!" he shouted. He paused and collected himself when the man who had tried to talk with Tesna's husband earlier spoke, "Don't act all mighty. I did step forward! I tried to talk some sense into him."

John scowled at him and marched up to the man to within a meter range; the man took a step back, John's attention on him unnerving him. And John growled out, "And what? You told him to not do it here. Do you know what that says? You might as well have said that it was okay to beat your wife as long as it wasn't in public. What kind of feeble attempt is that? No one should live in fear that their own neighbors won't help; no one should experience such abuse. By the looks of it I doubt this was the first time something like this happened. She didn't even look for help among you."

Some in the crowd had the decency to look ashamed, a few, disturbingly, looked belligerent. John made his way through the dispersing crowd that stayed away from him and over to the bench where Berin and Sarah were comforting the shaking, battered woman. Sarah looked up at John in amazement, but she too did not escape the feeling of shame. It was true, their town had known of the abuse of Tesna, but had turned a blind eye to it. She had heard it whispered that the beatings had started almost soon after their marriage. She hadn't seen it, but she couldn't deny seeing the suspicious marks peaking out from under Tesna's sleeves at times, or even on her face, with the weak excuse of having fallen. She was sure her mother had treated her for a fractured wrist before.

Tesna avoided looking at their faces after glancing up at John then hid her eyes behind a curtain of brown hair that had been pulled loose from her hair tie.

John crouched down in front of the woman and with a soft voice asked, "Are you all right?"

She nodded and turned her head to the side and mumbled, "Thank you."

Berin spoke up, her voice gentle and kind, "Well now, let's get you cleaned up Tesna. You can stay at our home, we have plenty of open rooms. Also all my proper medicines are back there."

Tesna looked up at Berin, ready to protest, but Berin held her hand and began leading them outside and said in a voice that brooked no argument, "You will stay with us, and don't even think of refusing. You can't possibly go back to where you have been living. Never mind being near that brute."

Tesna meekly followed, allowing herself to be lead out of the old barn between the two doctors and followed up with John. Aunt Rena met them with Brittany and Lindsey in tow and spoke to Sarah's mother, "I've asked Addy to drive you all back home in his cart, he'll pull up over there," she pointed to the road next to the fence in the darkness of night.

Addy came up, a single horse drawing the cart. Sarah sat beside him while Berin, Tesna, and the girls sat in back. John walked ahead of them lighting the way with a lantern the older man had passed to him. He took the time to cool off and collect himself. He knew if there weren't people avoiding him for his looks, there were definitely going to be people staying away from him now. But that didn't matter, he meant what he had said and it was their problem if they disagreed. Besides, he would be leaving after winter. He just wondered where Berin and Sarah stood, but, and he looked over his shoulder at them, caring for the hunched over Tesna, he was sure there was no reason to doubt them. They were caring people and many people succumbed to the bystander effect no matter how much people thought they would act differently in such a situation. He was harsh with those who had surrounded him, but he took action and felt he had done something similar before.

The night was cool and the sky was clear, allowing stars to sparkle and be appreciated had it been any other time. Addy had blankets in the cart for his passengers to use against the chill of an autumn night. They finally arrived at the Ravenelious residence; John passed back the yellow glowing lantern back to the herbalist who in turn handed Sarah a jar.

"I don't know if you had enough bruise salve, thought it would be useful so I grabbed it on my way from bringing the horse and cart."

"Thank you Addy, we appreciate it very much," Sarah said, she leaned across the wooden bench and gave him a quick hug before stepping out and down from the cart with John's help after he had helped those in back of the cart to step down.

They waved with thanks to Addy who waved back and lead his horse with reins in one hand and lantern in the other on his way back. The group walked silently, even the girls sensing the somber mood of the adults. Sarah watched the sleepy girls cross their arms tightly in front of them and shiver, she too was cold. She gave a nod at John and picked up Brittany with a grunt, muttering how big she was getting; John picked up Lindsey and continued walking to the lit up front door, the large house invitingly warm.

The girls were taken to bed, Berin lead Tesna to an empty room in the same hall as John and the girls, the first room nearest to the stairs and water closet. Sarah, after tucking the girls in, joined her mother in the room with medical supplies and spare clothing they may need to treat their new guest. They closed the door behind them, Berin having Tesna sit on the edge of the covered bed. The light in the room wasn't too bright, but enough to see the damage done to her face. Berin pulled up the chair to sit in front of the woman in her early thirties.

"Do you have any other bruises or wounds other than on your face?" Berin asked her gently. Sarah stood quietly to the side, ready to assist in any moment should it be needed.

After a long moment and an indrawn breath Tesna gave a timid nod, not meeting them in the eyes. She was asked to remove her clothing and after some hesitation she allowed them to help remove her clothing. Sarah worried at her submissive behavior. It made what they were doing simple, but her spirit seemed to be crushed and nonexistent. The mother and daughter held in their gasp at the sight the followed the removal of Tesna's clothing. Faded yellowed bruises covered by fresh blackish blue ones covered her ribs; a greenish spot peeked out from the edge of her panties over one hip, and what appeared to be a hand print shape that circled her upper arm. They also noticed how her ribs were defined, and limbs were thin from what could only be malnourishment. The thin woman had her arms crossed in front of her chest and stared down at the floor, ashamed.

"My dear, we will fix you up. You will stay with us, there's no question," Berin said with conviction, "I'm going to examine your ribs, tell me if it hurts."

After the examination was completed and with the diagnoses that the ribs were only bruised and not cracked they spread the salve onto her many contusions and helped her dress into a night gown Sarah had brought for her. Berin had Sarah go retrieve some food also, Tesna wouldn't clearly answer when was the last time she ate anything substantial, but the way she ate what they offered her, again an action that she hesitated with a glance at them, spoke volumes.

"If you need anything at all don't hesitate to ask, we will be in our rooms downstairs, Sarah's is at the end of the hall next to the stairs and mine is the corner room next to my office across from the dining hall," Berin said and noticed the quiet woman's small frame begin to shake, tears creeping out of her eyes.

"Oh honey," Berin softly spoke, sympathy twined through her words as she stepped forward and enveloped the woman into her arms gently, not wanting to cause pain to the many spots that covered her body. She sat them down and stroked the brown hair, her own eyes starting to mist. Tesna sobbed into Berin's chest as a child would and brought her thin arms up and around the doctor, clutching onto her dress. Berin signaled Sarah with a look that she would take care of her. Sarah nodded, feeling awkward not being able to do anything more useful but cleaned up the materials and clothing. She heard her mother murmur comfortingly to the distraught woman and caught, "…never again..."


End file.
